


Daughter of the Rebellion

by tantive404



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alderaan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dad Vader, Force Ghost Padmé Amidala, Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Gen, Politics, Pre-Star Wars: A New Hope, Rebellion, Skywalker Family Drama, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tantive404/pseuds/tantive404
Summary: Leia Organa is sixteen years old when she begins to display a power that she doesn't understand.After causing an unfortunate diplomatic incident with the Grand Moff Tarkin, Leia must do what she can to protect her people from the Empire's threats, even as she finds herself drawing deeper into rebellion.Navigating Coruscant society (along with the twisted politics of the Imperial Senate) has never promised to be easy for a teenaged girl, especially one so intent on initiating revolution.Unfortunately, she may have also piqued the interest of Darth Vader, which only complicates matters...
Relationships: Bail Organa & Breha Organa & Leia Organa, Bail Organa/Breha Organa, Leia Organa & Darth Vader
Comments: 77
Kudos: 234





	1. Chapter 1

_Her dreams had always been the strangest things._

_Ever since she was young, Leia was haunted by the same repeating visions…_

_The face of a woman, weeping, brown locks of hair curled gently around her forehead.. as she cried, softly, for the loss of all that she had loved._

_Smoke and fire on the horizon of an unknown planet… burning, burning…_

_And an overwhelming feeling of pain, loss and sadness._

_That was what filled her mind on so many nights as she slept._

_But the one thing that remained with her, even after she awoke, was the lingering memory of that woman… (She was very beautiful… kind but sad…)_

_There was something oddly familiar about her… something she couldn’t place. This mysterious woman, frozen in time, perpetually in mourning, felt almost like a second mother, softly mouthing her name to her, over and over again in a gentle refrain._

_“Leia… Leia…”_

_It was only later that she would begin to understand._

__________________________________

The royal court of Alderaan contained countless secrets.

Leia Organa knew this well— after all, she was that house’s heir. She heard the whispers, catching onto snippets of dialogue that slipped in between her lessons in diplomacy and language and rides on her speeder bike through the plains of Aldera. Sitting in the palace library with her parents, she felt safe— as though nothing in the galaxy could touch her world while they chatted on about nothing in particular.

But behind closed doors, she heard them talk of other things— ancient things, things that Leia didn’t yet understand. They spoke of the Republic of old, with its Jedi Knights and chancellor, destroyed in the wake of the Empire’s oppression. And some of their whispers, she was certain, were about her.

_(“She must be kept safe— we have to hide her…”)_

So she studied her parents, busied, though they were, by constant political meetings with the Imperial Moffs— those tall, arrogant men come with their thinly veiled attempts to intimidate her world into submission. (Leia despised them.) Of course, her mother, dignified and wise, warned her against such emotions— told her that hate would do her no good. As princess and future ruler of a planet already under Imperial suspicions, she must keep her temper in check and guard her tongue.

Still, Leia could scarcely help the anger she felt welling up inside her each time she saw Grand Moff Tarkin’s face, or heard of the atrocities taking place on the Outer Rim. So she sat in her father’s shadow, hands folded in her lap, trying to remain calm as her world was humiliated yet again.

She had hated Governor Tarkin from the instant they’d first met, had shuddered at his loathsome touch and leering glances. When he boasted of the atrocities his troops committed, she had difficulties containing her outrage. And yet, she must bide her time, doing nothing by the side of her parents, showing no sign of emotion…

The perfect mask of diplomacy.

She would not cower from Tarkin, no matter the threats he made.

She was a princess of Alderaan, and she was not afraid.

Soon (in a mere two days) she would reach the age of sixteen, her Day of Demand, when she proved her right to the throne. 

So she would be strong, even as he stood before them, so smug, prepared to denounce them all as traitors.

There were rumors, she knew, of an Alderaanian conspiracy to overthrow the Imperial government. The Grand Moff, whether he believed them or not, meant to use them against her parents, and against her world.

He was a ruthless snake of a man, his ambition well known and well feared throughout the galaxy. Even looking at him, she could not help but be reminded of a skeleton— bones jutting out at every angle from his pale visage.

The greeting ceremony began... He spoke a few short words to her parents, then took her hand and kissed it. His lips felt cold to the touch.

Now, onto the negotiations.

She watched her father and mother, calmly sitting there and speaking back to him.

“As you may know, Governor,” her father said, “Alderaan has practiced pacifism for several millennia. There is no reason to believe we would harbor weapons, nor that we would ever turn them against the Empire.”

The Governor sniffed.

“I do not doubt that, Senator Organa. However, it is possible that one might commit treason without ever firing a single weapon.”

“We have followed all laws within the mandates of the Empire,” her mother said icily, her expression painted over with what a younger Leia had liked to call her “queen face”.

“I would not be so certain,” Tarkin returned coldly. “We intercepted a rebel spy on the Outer Rim, who we found had connections to the House of Organa.”

 _Who was it?_ Leia thought desperately, her gaze shifting its focus to a glass paperweight on her father’s desk. 

(Focus on anything, anything other than Tarkin and the horrible, greedy glint in his eyes.)

“She identified herself,” the Governor continued, “by the name Sabé.”

 _Not her, please not her,_ Leia begged mentally, balling her hands into fists, her gaze focused all the more intently on the glass paperweight. She would be strong, always strong.

Silence filled the room, the air crackling with a thick tension.

“Are any of you,” Tarkin asked, looking from face to face, sparing not even the guards, “familiar with this woman?”

“Sabé is an aide in our household; she has tutored our daughter Leia—” here her father, Bail Organa, gestured toward her. “She was on a visit to her home planet, Naboo, when she was unjustly seized by the Empire’s troops… There was no warrant for her arrest.”

“But I can assure you, Senator Organa, that there was a reason for it. This woman was spotted carrying a rather suspicious package. When searched, our stormtroopers discovered that she had obtained several illegal documents. I’m afraid that she is scheduled for immediate termination.”

“But you can’t—” Leia caught herself in the middle of her sentence.

(Her father, she knew, had ordered her not to speak.)

But it was already too late. All eyes had turned to her.

“Leia, you may leave us,” her father said. She stood up to go, but Tarkin stopped her. 

"No, I believe the Princess should be heard,” he said mockingly, “What is it, Your Highness?”

She fought to reign in her temper, clenching her fists, glaring at Tarkin as she spoke.

“You won’t win, Governor,” she said. “You can’t kill her, not without a trial. That’s injustice— that’s the opposite of everything a government should stand for!"

Something pulled at her mind— some strange, dark force, tugging at the paperweight she’d so desperately focused on earlier.

The glass shattered.

Tarkin looked to her father with a smirk.

“Your daughter is quite charming, Senator Organa. I will let Lord Vader know that she is one to watch.”

__________________________________

Leia’s hands were shaking as she left the room— even after Tarkin left, they continued to shake.

 _What was that?_ She expected that one of her parents— or both— would arrive soon to scold her for her troubles. She knew that she shouldn’t have defied them, or spoken back to Tarkin in such a manner… but she wondered, at this point, how anyone could look the Governor in the face as he talked of the might of the Imperial war machine and its utter devastation of dissenting planets, its enslavement of nonhumans for use as “sentient resources,” and not betray a single sign of disgust.

And he wanted to kill Sabé.

Curiously, her parents seemed more concerned with his remark about Vader. However flippant, it had left them shaken.

(Anyone with an ounce of sense was afraid of Vader, Leia told herself. There were rumors of the things he could do… each story darker than the last…)

They called him the Emperor’s iron fist. Some said he was an assassin, sent to dispatch rebels and traitors with a sword of glowing light, that he tortured his victims in cold blood. They said that he was acquainted with the same dark magic as the Jedi of old… She’d never been so certain she believed all the stories, what with their wild warnings of objects flying through the air on his command and a disembodied hand grasping at his enemies’ throats. After all, Leia’s parents had told her, in disconnected stories of the Clone Wars— the truth regarding the Jedi— that they weren’t the bogeymen the previous near-sixteen years of their absence had made them out to be. 

(Then again, just moments ago, it seemed that the glass ornament in her father’s offices had been destroyed by her command… in time with the very tightening of her fist and the flashing anger in her mind. Or was it her imagination?)

Under the Empire, it was near impossible to access any information about the fallen order— that was how Palpatine controlled the masses, through ignorance. Their morbid imaginations filled in for what they did not know. However, the Jedi had been far more benevolent than people would like to think, her parents told her. Names such as Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker… they were brave and noble people. Vader was something else.

Something that made her father grow tense and cold, her mother’s tone of voice become sharper than usual…

It made sense that they were afraid, Leia told herself. She was aware that not all matters in the House of Organa bore up under a great deal of Imperial scrutiny.

(Again, their mentions of the Republic, and a wish to restore it…)

They spoke with one another in private, behind closed doors. And throughout the palace, she heard _his_ name spoken, echoing in hushed and fearful tones…

__________________________________

_Bail’s voice came first, a steady mellow baritone._

_“There is a danger— Vader could find her...”_

_“Are you certain?” Breha’s now, sharp and concerned._

_“Tarkin only meant to frighten us, that’s why he said…” She sucked in a breath, and Bail began to speak again._

_“I know. But she is so reckless… so like_ he _had once been—”_

_He immediately regretted that comparison, as Breha cried, “Oh Bail, don’t say that, she is ours, not his—”_

_He knew that his daughter could make a fine warrior. But Leia, with her eyes dark and intelligent, like a certain senator Bail had once known, with her poise and grace trained into her since practically birth— could also pass for a fine politician._

_(Besides, that path was safer. Given the darkness of her secret bloodline, it was more preferable to_ that _… She needed an outlet, she needed control. He saw the fire within her, her uncompromising spirit, her anger and unwillingness to deal with injustice. Her ambition, her love of the sky and the stars…) They pointed in a direction he did not like. Better to follow the path of the mother than that of the father. He recalled the brief, terrifying flickerings of the gift that she had shown before…_

_Young Leia, come crying to their bed in the night, plagued by dreams of an ocean of sand and a man covered by shadow. Leia, playing out in the courtyard with her beloved companion Winter, stopping a stray tree-branch seemingly in mid-air before it hit her friend in the face. The shattered glass from earlier, now swept away by a servant._

_“We knew this was going to happen sometime, Breha,” Bail said. “But we won’t let anything happen to her. She will be safe.”_

__________________________________

Soon after, Leia’s sixteenth Name Day arrived— and with it, the ceremony that all young Princesses of Alderaan must enact to prepare for the day that they would one day take their mother’s throne. The Challenges of the Mind, Heart, and Body. Her Challenge of the Mind, it seemed, would be the most taxing, for she was to become a member of the Senate’s Apprentice Legislature. She was no stranger to politics— she had accompanied her father in the Senate since she was a little girl. But this was different, and presented a whole new set of difficulties— particularly the utter uselessness that senators were considered to possess under the Empire. The visions still persisted, now more than ever, speaking of a destiny far beyond her reach. Whatever it was, it certainly had to be more interesting than the dull career that her parents had outlined for her within the Senate— so intent, as they were, on “protecting” her, keeping her locked safely away within the gilded cage of Alderaanian monarchy.

Once, she had believed that she could incite change here. Now, listening to the interminable speeches of the Emperor’s sycophants, fists clenched at her sides, she questioned her own naivety. She had come to the Apprentice Legislature in order to learn, so that she might one day become a fair ruler of Alderaan. But all she had really learned was how little the Senate actually accomplished.

Today, she was shadowing her father in committee, while the Senator (the human Senator) of Kashyyyk lobbied for more troops with which to suppress the “Wookiee savages.” It was a joke of a bill, Leia knew. Long before humans had settled on that world, the Wookiees had made up the entire population. Yet when the Empire took over, they’d all been enslaved, their representation in the Senate stripped away and replaced with the likeness of an Imperial puppet.

She saw her father, looking on with quiet disapproval as the bill passed with no commotion. He had voted against it, and there had been countless others as well— Mon Mothma of Chandrila, for one, the Senator of Naboo— and yet it still went through. Her gut told her that there was foul play at work here, that the system had been rigged somehow. Perhaps some of those closest to the Senator of Kashyyyk had accepted bribes, willing to let a suffering people from a seemingly primitive species suffer a little longer in order to gain a few more credits.

This system was rotten to its very core.

She burned with a desire to change it, to right the wrongs of Imperial rule. Leia listed her grievances out to her father over a cup of caffe one morning— hopeful that perhaps he would have an answer, or at least some advice. His only reply was a wry smile, offered along with the statement:

“Your passion sets you apart, Leia. But you must be careful. There are those who would use it against you.”

Stars, her father could be insufferable at times— it reminded her of her aunts, the dowagers who had tirelessly trained her up in etiquette as a child. She loved them, yes, but they were always so concerned with propriety— more than what would make a good ruler, or what was the right thing to do.

Leia’s father wasn’t like his sisters in that respect— when they fought him on allowing her to join the Apprentice Legislature, he’d defended her.

But still… Didn’t he care about making the galaxy a better place? She knew he did, deep down. He was just so concerned with keeping her “safe”... (always safe, it had been a cry since her childhood, whispered between her parents…) And yet…

The fires of Rebellion were spreading across the galaxy, countless citizens on countless planets rising up against the Empire. She couldn’t just sit still and do _nothing_.

As Crown Princess of Alderaan, she held the privilege of diplomatic immunity and, with it, access to innumerable loopholes in Imperial procedure. So when she wasn’t stuck in another pointless conference of the Apprentice Legislature, Leia spent her time dreaming up ways to exploit these loopholes, sneaking supplies past blockades, ferrying refugees to Alderaanian safehouses—

All that she’d really managed to do though, was stick like a thorn in the Emperor’s side, irritating members of his bureaucracy now and then. That wasn’t enough. She wanted to do something more. She wanted to make a difference.

And so, her father would bid her goodbye as he headed off, alone, to the Senate chamber, leaving her in solitude within the confines of his offices. The apartment was spacious, relatively comfortable for a long time spent alone. Leia knew exactly what to do. She’d always had a knack for hacking into systems— so it was with relative ease that she found herself on the dark HoloNet, researching codes and files for an organization that called themselves a Rebellion.

It was only later that she would truly begin to understand.


	2. Chapter 2

Lord Vader cared little for politics— even less for those who devoted themselves to their twisted workings. Nevertheless, the Emperor seemed to take a fiendish delight in forcing him to cooperate with the Grand Moff Tarkin. The Governor was indeed filled with ambition, a sort of primal ruthlessness by which he had climbed to the top of the Imperial elite. Yet the man was a fool. Blind to the Force, blind to all but his own militant abominations— Vader refused to be bested by him or by his kind.

_Once, the desert creatures of a far-flung world had invoked his own name in awed and fearful tones, as though they believed him to be some sort of vengeful demon, far beyond the strength of mortal man. (Yet that had been a lifetime ago, when he was little more than a boy, just at the dawn of his descent into darkness...)_

Now, the denizens of a thousand star systems referred to Darth Vader in much the same manner… A hideous creature in a mask, little more than a machine…

Petty insults, whispered by lower officers behind his back… He heeded them not. One purpose dominated his mind— to serve the Empire, to grow stronger in the dark side of the Force.

But currently, there was talk of treason in the Senate— politicians scheming to overthrow the order of the Empire, so newly created. Such rumors troubled his Master, though privately, Vader doubted their capabilities.

Senators such as Mon Mothma of Chandrila and Bail Organa of Alderaan were little match for the dark side of the Force— idealistic politicians, nothing more.

And yet…

His Master had ordered him to investigate the stirrings in the Imperial Senate.

There was talk of Organa, the primary suspect, planning to resign from his position. Not to mention that several strange incidents relating to the Rebellion had occurred on the Outer Rim of late.

So Vader strode with purpose down the corridors of what had once been the Jedi Temple— now the Imperial palace.

The remnants of the old Order had been destroyed, swept away by his own hand.

And everywhere, there were ghosts.

_Children, screaming out to him in agony… grown men and women looks of hopeless resignation crossing their faces once they realized that it was all over, that they had lost._

If he could change what had come to pass… what he had done…

No. He would not reflect on the past. He was a servant of the Empire… nothing more.

Just moments ago, he had received a holo transmission from Tarkin— the very object of his ire— labeled as “urgent”.

The Governor appeared to have just exited hyperspace returning to Coruscant following one of his many crusades.

He switched on his commlink, as the tall, slender figure of the Grand Moff appeared.

“Lord Vader,” he said. “I have just discovered some most interesting news.”

“What is it, Governor?”

“My most recent visit to the House of Organa proved quite fruitful. I am certain that Alderaan’s central government is involved with the Rebellion incident.”

“Is that so?”

Vader remained unsurprised. He had been certain of this for a long time now. Bail Organa’s foolish outspokenness in the Senate made this painfully obvious, but a series of fortunate coincidences seemed to have spared him.

Tarkin’s next statement, however, caught Vader’s attention.

“Their daughter,” he said, “is an unusual child. She seems to possess a most interesting… gift.”

Was the Grand Moff implying that the Princess of Alderaan was Force-sensitive?

It was a ridiculous notion— and yet… Vader had seen the child once before— from afar, in the Senate chamber. She was clinging to her father’s leg, clad in a simple white gown… she must have been no more than three years old then.

_The same age HER child— Padmé’s— would have been, had it not died in the womb. When he had killed them both, in his anger, as his Master had told him in such a terrible, gloating voice._

_He thought back to the past… of a sandy-haired boy with a smirk on his lips that hinted at invincibility, however false that perception might be… and he thought of HER— his angel, his beloved._

No. He crushed down those memories, those emotions, leftover from his past self… his WEAKER self. He was Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, and he would not _stoop_ so low as to be affected by such things.

Tarkin had paused, deliberately, in his dialogue, a thin smirk carven across his face. He supposed himself cunning, Vader knew, and he had to admit that, for a being who lived without the aid of the Force, he had done remarkably well. But Vader could see through the Governor’s petty facade, knew that he intended to _exploit_ this girl and use her as leverage against him somehow. He would not let that happen.

“I understand, Governor,” he said.

He crushed the commlink with his fist.

__________________________________

Something was wrong. Leia could feel it.

Her father had failed to return for some time now. She couldn’t help but wonder what was keeping him.

She knew that something important was happening in the galaxy, something big…

It was why she had taken such an interest in the rebels of late.

Here was what she knew of them: As of yet, there did not appear to be a singular leader of the Rebellion. The group was divided into cells, small groups of fighters spread across the galaxy. Their tactics were varied but all were united in their goal of seeing the Empire overthrown.

Her first encounter with the Rebellion, as most were, had been from afar. Rumors of guerilla task forces taking down Imperial outposts…

The closest she’d come (knowingly) to this group was a view of wreckage outside a port window from space— returning from a mercy mission on the Outer Rim.

It was her first time on her own, overseeing a mission without the help of her father, and she was desperate to prove herself.

_“Princess! Come away from the window,” Captain Antilles called to her. As he pulled her gently away she looked back, making sure to memorize each detail of how the wreckage lay from where she stood._

Calderos Station— one of the Empire’s most valuable spaceports— had been destroyed. Clearly, the damage of such an integral port would cripple the Imperial military, which must have been the intent of the attack.

Someone was fighting back. There were others in the galaxy who were daring to take on the Empire.

So she’d become _fascinated_ with learning more about this group, solving the mystery of their existence, their cause.

And the more she learned, the more she wanted to help, to be a part of something greater than herself.

But her thoughts were quickly interrupted. She heard a beep and a whistle, then looked down at her side. She’d forgotten— she wasn’t completely alone here… aside from her father’s security guards there remained one more obstacle.

“Quiet, Artoo,” she whispered to the astromech droid next to her. She was not above being cautious when it came to matters like this, and she was _not_ about to get caught looking into the secrets of the Rebellion.

But the droid wouldn’t stop beeping.

He was a persistent little thing— she knew that well. She’d grown up with him, after all— he’d been a loyal servant to the House of Organa since the day of her adoption, along with a rather fussy protocol droid known as C-3PO. 

_(Did they, perhaps, have some connection to the circumstances of her birth_ _... her biological parents even?)_

It was a question she'd pondered many times.

The two were an almost inseparable pair… though right now, Threepio was assisting one of her father’s aides on some obscure business on the other side of the Senate complex… Meaning R2-D2 was probably just bored (or whatever equivalent emotion a droid might be programmed to feel… while she possessed great skill with technology, she was a little unclear on the ever-blurring line between programming and personality that droids had) and in need of companionship.

He chirped again, then let out an interrogative whistle.

Leia’s eyes narrowed.

“No, Artoo, I’m just sorting through some documents for the Apprentice Legislature,” she said— a blatant lie.

She trusted R2-D2, he was a practical droid and had gotten her out of many jams ever since she was very young, but she wasn’t about to admit to anyone what she was really doing. (Sorting through files for an organization that she’d only established minimal contact with so far, who she didn’t even know if she could trust, and whose entire purpose was to overthrow the current tyrannical regime of the galactic government, then reestablish peace and freedom by restoring the Republic. In other words, they were committing treason, and so was she, by agreeing to get involved with them.)

But if that was what it took to stop the Empire from hurting her people— from hurting the entire galaxy— then so be it.

She could still remember the incident with Sabé— how could she forget?

The woman had almost lost her life, threatened by Grand Moff Tarkin in order that he might bring down Alderaan.

(And she, so foolishly, had nearly cost her with her outspokenness.)

Her father had warned her afterward to be careful, had gently taken her hand and cautioned her against this sort of behavior.

_“You might have cost Sabé her life, were you the one in charge of negotiations,” he said, and Leia’s face fell._

_“But it will be okay, Leia. You are safe, and we will return Sabé to us— alive and unharmed._

_His voice caught on the last statement, and she looked at him with concern._

_“Sabé has been a dear friend to both your mother and myself,” he said._

_But it was what followed afterward that truly took her by surprise._

_“She was also very close with your birth mother.”_

_Leia gasped, looking up at him with curiosity. She’d heard so little about the woman who birthed her, and now to hear this…_

_“Did you know my birth mother?” she asked._

_Bail smiled at her sadly._

_“I did,” he replied._

_To hear such a thing from her father’s mouth..._

_“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asked._

_He just shook his head in return._

_“It is too dangerous, Leia,” he said. “I should not have even said that much.”_

_“But why? Is it the Empire…?”_

_“You would not want to hear it,” he said. “It’s not a pleasant story.”_

_“I don’t care! I’m old enough!” she returned, knowing very well that she may have sounded like a petulant child just there._

_But still…_

Why must you keep everything from me, Father? I’m old enough. I don’t care how unpleasant the truth is, I just want to know.

_To hold the image of her parenthood in her mind’s eye…_

But Sabé… she’d known… and then she’d almost been killed…

Her return was the most puzzling part. Several days after her supposed execution was to take place, she appeared once again. Had she escaped, or had she been released? The story was unclear. All she knew for certain was that her former tutor had been sentenced to death but was now walking free.

 _The Rebellion_ , she thought.

Her instincts told her that it had something to do with the Rebellion. They had done so much in the galaxy of late… and, to be entirely honest, she wasn’t exactly certain that there weren’t members of House Organa involved.

The rebels were good people— this she could tell.

In all her encounters with them, they had never deliberately harmed a civilian, or targeted anything other than the Imperial military.

But they were far from an army, and this was far from a war.

(Despite their most daring attacks, they were few, scattered among the stars… there was doubt that they could ever truly take on the might of the Empire…)

But Leia, oddly enough, found herself wanting to aid their cause.

She had been raised a pacifist, on a planet that advocated for peace.

(And yet, she recalled an old Alderaanian legend… one that every child of Alderaan was told.)

_Once, thousands of years ago, Alderaan had been a planet of warriors… its Queen, its matriarch, at the head, the blood of her enemies stained red on her lips._

_When she spoke, lightning flashed and thunder roared…_

_But when the House of Organa won the war at last, its enemies vanquished, she chose peace, hence laying the famed Rhindon Sword to rest. And Alderaan remained peaceful for thousands of years._

_However, legend says that one day, a new Queen will arise, and she will take up their sword once again._

Leia knew she was not Alderaanian by blood… she’d noticed from an early age that she looked very little like her parents. Her skin was too pale, her eyes too wide, and her face too round. As a child she’d sometimes sit by the mirror scanning desperately for any slight similarity to her parents, knowing that it would be a coincidence but accepting it gratefully nonetheless.

But one day, she would rule the planet, and she knew she must do so with grace.

So, would it be wrong to break tradition? To sacrifice everything and fight? Even if it was to protect her people…?

She could help make the galaxy a better place… or she could bring great danger to everyone. It was a concerning paradox in which she’d found herself. In the meantime, she needed to figure out exactly what these rebels were up to.

“C’mon, Artoo,” she said. “We’ve got a mystery to solve.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bail Organa knew that he had little time to spare. He knew what had to be done.

He’d left Leia in his offices, along with the Artoo unit that had remained with their family for so long. He hoped that she would be safe, prayed that she wouldn’t somehow find trouble— as she so often did.. _(There was a guard, he would at least alert him if anything went wrong.)_

Ever since the incident with Tarkin, he’d been unable to rest… pacing the room at night as he feared for his daughter’s safety.

She was Force-sensitive… there was no doubt about it. The blood of her father— her biological father— flowed strong within her.

In a different time, this might have been considered a blessing. Now it was nothing but a curse.

He needed help, and fast… This was Jedi business.

_(Ahsoka Tano would have told anyone who asked that she was no Jedi. But once, she had been trained in their ways… she knew the Force, and that was what mattered.)_

The transmission he’d sent to her, encrypted several times over:

“Fulcrum… if you’re seeing this, I am in dire need of help. I hate to ask for you over personal matters… but… it’s my daughter. I will meet you in the warehouse on Level 5125.”

He wanted this to remain as secretive as possible— descending to a lower level of Coruscant, he hoped, would accomplish that. He knew that Ahsoka was on the planet somewhere nearby— he hoped that he could reach her.

It must have been a strange sight— the Senator and Prince Consort of Alderaan hidden away in an abandoned warehouse, carefully concealed behind a stack of crates. (It reminded him of nothing so much as when he was a boy, raised in the mountains of Aldera, and he would play hide-and-seek with his sisters, remaining in the same clever spot, sometimes for an hour.)

He waited, until, at last, a hooded figure descended from the rafters.

“Senator Organa,” Tano said. “It’s been some time.”

“So it has,” he returned.

Ahsoka pulled the hood down from atop her lekku, exposing her face in full.

“Your daughter… Leia… is she alright? You contacted me concerning her.”

“She is safe as of now,” he said. “However, it may not remain so for long.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s Force-sensitive, Ahsoka. And there are those in the Empire who may know it.”

“How?” Ahsoka asked.

She was well aware of the dangers that Force-sensitivity could bring now, during Palpatine’s reign.

She’d left the Jedi Order as a young girl, but the curse and blessing that was the Force still remained with her, and she’d had to be careful… hiding from Imperial troops, often on remote, backwater worlds. Sticking her neck out too far could lead to having to relocate. Until Bail had offered her a place in the fledgling Rebellion.

Ahsoka trusted Bail Organa; she was willing even to assist him with personal favors— he was a good man, and she knew the struggles of caring for a child of the Force, had known the struggle of _being_ one.

She’d come across a few children who were adept in its powers during her time in hiding… one little girl, named Hedala, scarcely left her thoughts… her dark, frightened eyes haunting Ahsoka, when she spoke of the shadows that wouldn’t go away. Ahsoka had done her best to aid the girl in managing her abilities, but she’d had to move on to another world, and she could only hope that the girl was safe…

Now it was time to help another child— Bail’s child. It was easy to see that she was not an Organa by blood— indeed, Breha and Bail made no secret of the fact that their heir was adopted. Rumor went that this had caused quite a stir among the nobles of the Elder Houses at the time. But Ahsoka was no Core World snob, and she knew that, often, the strongest of families were not made by blood.

(After all, for quite some time, her own had consisted of two headstrong bickering Jedi Knights and an army of eccentric clones. Family was what you made of it.) Her operations as “Fulcrum” had meant that, for a while, she’d had to stay away from the Core— or really any worlds with a strong Imperial presence (Coruscant now was an exception— she was here for a location-specific mission).

But in spite of this, she’d still, on a few occasions, come face-to-face with the young Princess. There was no doubt about it, her presence in the Force burned bright as a star.

__________________________________

_“How are you, little one?”_

_Ahsoka bent down to make eye contact with the child— Leia must have been no more than three or four at the time._

_Still, Bail and Breha would attest that she was both precocious and quite the little troublemaker._

_The girl looked up at her with dark brown eyes that seemed to see too much._

_“I’m Ahsoka Tano,” she introduced herself, extending her hand for the child to take._

_The Princess grasped it firmly in her tiny hand._

_“‘Soka,” she repeated, and the nickname stuck._

_The two locked eyes for a few more moments._

_“Leia, run along now,” Bail said._

_Leia looked back at her father with a rueful pout, as if to say she didn’t want to leave but she knew when it was time for “grown-up” matters to be discussed._

_“There’s no doubt, Bail,” Ahsoka said. “The Force is strong with her. I… felt it.”_

_Bail pressed his lips firmly together._

_“Breha and I have always had our suspicions,” he informed her. “There were times when she’s done… strange… things. Nothing that would particularly stick out to an outside observer but, well— for a toddler, her instincts are uncanny.”_

_Ahsoka nodded._

_“_ _Those were the children that the Jedi would watch for,” she informed him._

And the ones that the Empire would be searching for now, _they each thought but did not have to say._

_“Now you must keep an eye on her,” Bail said. “Please… help my daughter… keep her safe…”_

__________________________________

Years had gone by.

And now…

_“She’s Force-sensitive, Ahsoka. And there are those in the Empire who may know it.”_

_“How?”_

“I don’t quite understand it myself,” Bail said. “Governor Tarkin—” Ahsoka grimaced at that name, having personal distaste for the man “— was on an official visit to Alderaan. He made it clear to Breha and myself that it was all a pretext to find how much we knew of the Rebellion. He informed us that one of our agents and employees— Leia’s tutor, in fact— had been taken into custody and was soon to be executed. So Leia lashed out, and… I can’t say what happened. A paperweight on my desk that was made of glass suddenly shattered, as if in time with the clenching of her fist. I’ve heard of some Jedi having had the capability to do this but… Leia has no training.”

“The Force can be mysterious,” Ahsoka granted. “It isn’t always clear the circumstances under which it operates. But Leia is strong. It would be wise to find a way to control her power.”

“What can you do?”

“I can teach her some shielding techniques— things that the younglings would have learned early on in their training. It can’t be anything that would draw attention to her—”

“No, of course not,” Bail agreed. “After all— Ahsoka, I’ve not publicly announced this yet, but I plan to resign my position in the Senate. There are already rumors, and it’s most likely that she will take my place.”

“In that case, we’d better take action quickly,” Ahsoka said. “I assume she’ll come into contact with the Emperor and… _others_ under his influence. Masking her potential, then, is something we must do. But we have to find a way that I can reach her in secret.”

“I do not want my daughter dragged into this fight,” Bail said. “But somehow, you must reach her. She knows you, surely she remembers you from childhood.”

“I suspect she does,” Ahsoka smiled. “But we must find some way to get to her if, as you say, you do not want her dragged into the fight. Although Bail… I have a premonition that she will make a fine addition as a leader someday.”

“She is my daughter,” returned Bail gravely. “I do not wish to place her in any more danger than she has already found herself.”

Ahsoka blinked.

“I have a bad feeling about how all this is going to turn out,” she stated.

“I will find some pretext under which you can meet her,” Bail said. “I must return to my offices— Leia is probably expecting me, along with who-knows-how-many officials on Senate business. Farewell, Lady Tano.”

“Goodbye, Senator Organa,” she replied. “May the Force be with you.”

But when Bail Organa returned to his office, the guard was quick to tell him that his daughter was nowhere to be found.

__________________________________

_Leia stood tall before her father’s security guard (or at least as tall as she could make herself with what little height she had). Artoo trailed reluctantly behind, still unsure of the wisdom of Leia’s plan, but stubborn enough to follow her as if to ensure her safety._

_Getting past the guard was a little harder that Leia had anticipated, particularly because he was so persistent._

_“I am sorry, Your Highness, but your father had not informed me of your leaving during his time away._

_So she was to be a captive in her father’s own apartment, Leia mused bitterly._

_Well, she would just have to find some sort of excuse to get out._

_She wanted to say: “Technically, I outrank you, don’t I?” But instead she said, “I only wish to go for a walk, Captain. Surely that’s alright.”_

_She tried to straighten her poise. Taller, more commanding._

_Something within the guard’s eyes changed._

_“Certainly, Your Highness,” he managed flatly, and stepped aside for her to pass._

_The truth was that Leia needed to find evidence on her personal quest to discover more about the Rebellion._

_To do that, she would try descending to a lower level— Level 5125, to be exact. Within all the encrypted files she’d come across, there were frequent mentions of this location._

_And so her first step in joining the Rebellion would start there._

__________________________________

“I’m sorry, Senator. Your daughter is not here,” the guard spoke.

“What do you mean, Captain? Where is she then?” Bail demanded.

The Captain looked feebly up at his Viceroy, his commander.

“She told me she wanted to go for a walk, Senator. Please…”

“Did she tell you where she was going?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

He looked down in shame, as if he realized how easily he’d allowed the Princess to slip past him.

In truth, everything had blurred within his memory the moment the girl had told him her excuse.

There was something… odd… about her, something that had compelled him to obey.

But what was the Princess trying to accomplish?

And here was his Viceroy, his Senator, demanding of him: “Which way did she go? What were her intentions?”

Bail was desperate, almost frightened.

It was in that moment that he thought of Breha— his promise to her that their daughter would remain safe.

_(As safe as she had been the moment he’d placed her in the arms of his Queen…)_

That day had been a day of both their greatest joys and deepest struggles.

The knowledge that the Republic was gone, that the Jedi were gone, and that their mutual friend and confidante, Padmé Amidala, had passed with these.

_But that he’d left them her child, the daughter they’d so desired, who they’d strived to bear for so many years…_

So it was natural that Bail wanted to protect her with everything he had… even down to his life. He didn’t know exactly the nature of what she was up to, but he wished to shield her from any dangers that she might encounter.

The guard said that he didn’t know her intentions, but that he “believed she went that way” pointing in a certain direction that Bail knew led to the lower levels. This couldn’t be good.

“Thank you, Captain,” he said, and followed in pursuit of his daughter.

__________________________________

“This way, Artoo,” Leia said.

_(She thought so… Why was the little droid following her, anyway? Some perceived sense of loyalty built deep into his programming… that would be it.)_

In which case, she hoped she could ask a small favor of him.

“Artoo, promise you won’t tell my father about this… keep this a secret between just the two of us, okay?”

Artoo whistled a query in response.

“Because I’ll get in trouble, that’s why!” she huffed back.

She bent down to meet the droid’s height level.

“Listen, what I said to the guard back at Father’s apartment wasn’t the entire truth,” she whispered.

“We are going for a walk, but I’m doing something else too.”

Artoo sounded distressed at this.

“Father can’t know because he’ll be worried for me,” she said. “He’s— holding me back.”

She turned away and continued on her course.

What she’d said was true, so she believed, and while she loved him deeply, she couldn’t stand how overprotective her father could be at times.

She spotted a terminal plug in the wall, meant for astromech droids.

Maybe if Artoo plugged into it, she’d be able to access more information on the building’s layout, and the access to the lower levels.

At her command, the droid did so, only for her to be met by a series of frantic beeping noises.

“Shh,” she whispered fiercely. “What is it?”

Artoo highlighted a portion of the building that, on the map, appeared to be just another apartment.

But upon closer inspection, parts of it looked like they were closed off, and it seemed to have been abandoned some time ago.

The same repeating sequence of beeping sounds, over and over again, saying something about a “Queen”. Without waiting for Leia’s permission, the droid unplugged himself and began gliding off as fast as his treads could carry him.

“Artoo, wait!”

Leia began to chase after him.

She doubted the “Queen” he was referring to was her mother, but what could he mean?

Before she could ponder the statement too long, the droid stopped in front of an apartment.

It wasn’t her father’s apartment.

He plugged into the wall terminal to access the door, began scrolling through code to open it.

To Leia’s surprise, his attempt was met with success.

How did R2-D2 know the password to enter this seemingly random apartment? When he’d first set off on this bizarre escapade, she’d assumed that he was malfunctioning— that perhaps he’d been infected by malware of some sort. Such things had happened to droids before, she knew.

The apartment was abandoned— but not empty.

Several trunks were spread throughout the room, and furniture as well. Most were covered by sheets— the windows were boarded shut— so whoever had occupied the living space must have left it some time ago, Leia presumed.

Curiosity compelled her to move toward one of the trunks.

Gently, she undid the rusted latch, letting the lid fly open. Inside, there must have been dozens of gowns— elegant, elaborate, though old-fashioned.

The royals of Alderaan no longer bothered with such luxurious garments— preferring the functional yet stately. But these— they were exquisite.

She ran her fingers over the fabric of what looked to be a summer dress. The back and shoulders were left open, the sleeves loose and flowing, and the fabric gathered at the neck by a silver charm. The colors blended together, beginning with a pale yellow, then shifting to pink and finally, a deep lavender at the hem. There were many such dresses… one noticeably darker in hue, glittering and alluring.

A few mementos were gathered in the trunk as well— a light brown lock of hair, perhaps that of a loved one. Some letters, written in correspondence with family or friends, the rounded, curly letters smudging together with age, making them difficult to read. Letters written on paper were a rarity now… the books in the library at Aldera Palace were there more as an ancient curiosity than anything else, although Leia could recall pouring over them as a child, taking in the details of an ancient world. Here, it was as if she were looking at the belongings of a ghost.

Artoo skittered toward her— nervous, perhaps from the dark environment of this apartment.

“Who lived here?” Leia wondered aloud.

She held one of the letters closer to her face, trying to make out the characters written on it. Most of them were blurred together, but she saw a signature at the bottom that looked vaguely familiar to her: _Padmé Amidala._

The woman was an important figure on Naboo, and she knew that her parents had dealt with her at some time. She’d died, they said, at the end of the Clone Wars. The Empire had tried to make a martyr of her. They said that she’d been killed by the treacherous Jedi, but her parents were having none of it.

“She was a remarkable woman,” her mother said. “She always stood up for what she knew was right. The galaxy could use more people such as that, right now.”

Leia stood up, knowing that perhaps she should go. A strange feeling washed over her, filled with darkness and dread.

She was cold.

Suddenly she heard a noise, loud and breathy, like that of a respirator.

R2-D2 whimpered.

The noise drew closer.

_In. Out. In. Out._

It was a sound from nightmares.

She knew who it was.

_Darth Vader._


	4. Chapter 4

Vader had made a fool of himself for too long now. The rebels still eluded him. 

He had become something of a mockery within the Imperial court… his failures met with scorn and derision by his Master. In times such as these, he found his mind turning to the desires of his _weaker_ self… turning to the last remnant of them that he had left.

There had been a prisoner— a female— taken in days ago, who appeared to have connections to the rebels. Vader had taken part in her interrogation and after gleaning the necessary information, she was sentenced to death. A band of rebels had aided in her escape before it could happen— but the truth was that Vader had let her go. She bore too high a resemblance to one who had once been dear to him... He could not actively partake in her death, not when he’d already made that mistake once before…

_That was what the weak part of his mind said... the part that still yearned for the light… calling to him in moments of doubt… moments of cowardice…_

Now, he felt these urges most of all…

In this time, where all despised him, where he could turn to _no one_ (for he was Lord Vader, he needed none but himself and the Force) he found his soul _weakened,_ drawn to a certain place where SHE, in life, had resided. 

The apartment complex was one that Vader knew surprisingly well… which could be attributed to his past self, he knew. 

_Secret visitations to the woman he’d loved…_

The same complex also housed the office of Bail Organa… wandering here might prove to be a _convenient_ excuse to investigate his dealings with the rebels. 

_This was what he told himself that he might pass by HER domain once again… tracing the footsteps of the past…_

When he first reached the entrance, he thought he was seeing a ghost…

A girl with dark brown hair, done up in elaborate braids, her short slender form bent down over a trunk of clothes… and a small blue astromech droid at her side. 

The scene was all too familiar. 

He moved ever-so-slightly closer, and she leapt to her feet with a start. 

“Lord Vader, I—”  
With these words, he snapped back to reality. He was not in the past, and this was not his beloved Padmé. It was someone else. 

“Princess Leia Organa.”

The girl stared up at him with unblinking eyes, a gaze that seemed too _fierce_ for such a delicate face. Her presence in the Force was unlike any he had seen among the Core World nobles. (Indeed, her father, Bail Organa, barely registered as a _blip_ in the Force. Insignificant. Weak.)  
But this child…

Staring into the face of evil, Leia did not quiver. She told herself she was not afraid. (It was easier that way. Easier to pretend she did not feel the chill, or the dark shadows 

clawing at her heart.)

“I have heard much about you, Your Highness,” Darth Vader said. 

Leia wondered at that statement. She recalled Tarkin’s boast to her father that he’d inform Vader she was “one to watch”— had it been true?  
“As have I, Lord Vader.”  
Which wasn’t wrong.  
He tilted his head just slightly to the left. Behind the mask, Leia imagined that he raised an eyebrow. 

“I do not doubt that,” he said. Then Vader’s gaze shifted downward. Lower still. To R2-D2’s dome. Under the pressure, the droid wilted and skittered away. 

_Foolish._ To run from Darth Vader and expect to succeed was ridiculous, even for a droid. 

“Your droid seems to fear me, Your Highness,” he stated. He used her title as a mockery. “Do you not as well?”  
“No,” Leia said, ignoring the pounding of her heart and the quivering fear within the pit of her stomach. “I do not.” 

“You are lying,” Vader said. He felt his presence sink into her mind, feeling the crackling energies that stemmed from its walls. He tried to dig deeper.  
She pushed him away. 

Leia Organa, Princess of Alderaan, had pushed away the Dark Lord of the Sith like he was _nothing_.

_(“With a kick that hard? Definitely a girl.”)_ _  
_ In a flash, his mind went back to an earlier memory— one of his many visits to this apartment. 

_(“Something wonderful has happened. Ani, I’m pregnant.”)_

Amidala’s pregnancy had been a tumultuous time for them both. She would clad herself in loose, billowing garments, he remembered, to disguise the child growing within her. One of her handmaidens, whose skill was with needle and thread, had modified most of her wardrobe… for if rumors emerged of a _scandal_ having taken place, it would be most damaging to her career.

Their union was something that could not be made public. 

_Evenings were the time for tender, stolen moments, his hand resting on her stomach as they guessed at the details of the baby’s birth._

_“It will be a little boy,” Padmé_ _smiled. “I can tell. It’s my… motherly intuition.”_

_That was when he felt it. A kick, firm and loud, against his hand._

_“I don’t think so,” Anakin Skywalker had returned._

_She looked at him, innocent and questioning._

_“What do you mean?”_

_“With a kick that hard? It’s definitely a girl.”_ _  
_ _He smirked knowingly, and she laughed._

_How he’d loved to make her laugh…_

_“What should we name it?” she asked one day. “The baby, I mean.”_ _  
_ _Anakin thought, long and hard._

_He thought of a legend his mother had told him as a boy._

_Of Lei-yah, the krayt dragon, powerful and brave._

_Whose flame had lit the twin suns at the birth of Tatooine._

_The might she-dragon, who they said, would arise one day to free the slaves._

_(Perhaps it was foolish of him, wanting to name his child for a fairy tale.)_ _  
_ _He told Padmé the story expecting that she might laugh, and suggest a more fitting name._ _“If it’s a girl,” he said, “we will name her after Lei-yah.”_ _  
_ _“That’s a beautiful name,” she said instead. “But I know it’s a boy. So we will name him Luke.”_ _  
_ Surely, he’d thought, it was a mere coincidence, a cruel trick of the Force, that had brought a girl with so similar a name, who resembled his Padmé so perfectly, to another family, while he had been left with nothing.

After all, while _Lei-yah_ was a name unique to Tatooine legend, Alderaanians favored the name _Leia_. It could be explained away. 

But that begged the question of the all-too-familiar R2 unit by her side. 

“He is an older model of droid, Princess, is he not?”  
“Yes, Lord Vader,” she said, adding mentally _“Why does it matter to you?”_ “I apologize for his misbehavior. He seems to be malfunctioning. 

She measured his breathing, in and out, in and out, until at last, he spoke again. 

“That matters little to me,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I wish only to know where you acquired it from.”  
“What relevance does _that_ have?” she snapped back. 

So she was a bold one, Vader thought. He’d seldom encountered a lower officer in the Imperial Navy who questioned him with such fire. But this girl…

She _tested_ him. 

“Answer me, Your Highness.”  
“He’s been with the House of Organa since my adoption.”  
Her adoption. That was correct _—_ the Princess would have to have been adopted. The untamed _power_ he’s sensed from her in the Force did not match with the dull invisibility of the other Organa royalty. 

This raised more questions that it answered… either the Force truly was playing tricks on him, or Bail Organa had stolen from him both his droid and his child. 

_(She would need a teacher; she needed someone to hone her abilities…)_

Quickly, he grasped the Princess by the arm. The amount of resistance he met with was incredible. 

“Let go!” she protested, but Vader ignored her, and strode off, with her in tow, to find her father. 

Organa would answer for this. 

__________________________________

When Bail Organa at last found his daughter, the situation was far worse than he could have imagined. 

He’d never expected that Leia would _—_ so literally _—_ be found within the clutches of Darth Vader.  
It took all of his years as a diplomat not to break down right then and there. He strode forward, trying to remain proud. 

“Lord Vader! What is the meaning of this?” 

“You are fortunate, Organa, that I do not kill you immediately,” Vader growled. 

“With all due respect, my Lord, you are assaulting my daughter. Let her go!” 

Leia dropped violently to the floor, rising soon after. She would remain a Princess, proud and regal to the end. 

“Senator Organa, we have much to discuss.” 

“I would appreciate, then, that we do so in my office. I’d prefer this to be a private discussion.” 

It mattered little to Vader. 

“As you wish.” 

The journey there was possibly the most awkward thing that any of them had experienced. Artoo, coming out of his hiding place, but still realizing the danger of the situation, trailed behind, Above all their thoughts was the rush of Vader’s breath. 

They entered the apartment, each beginning to take their place. 

Leia and her father locked eyes for a moment. 

“Leia, it would be best if you left us.”

A chill came over her, and she began to understand. 

She didn’t like it… but she would leave if it meant comfort to her father…

So she exited the room.

But peering out from behind a curtain, she’d bear witness. 

For if Vader so much as laid a hand on her father— 

She’d do everything in her power to avenge him. 

“I understand, Senator Organa, that your daughter is adopted.” 

Again, Leia wondered, what relevance did this have?  
“Yes, my Lord. She was a war orphan from the Clone Wars— my wife and I had always talked of adopting a little girl, and we took her in.” 

“She is Force-sensitive… attuned to the powers of the Jedi. Are you aware of that?”  
_Force-sensitive…_ if anyone had told Leia that a week ago, she would not have believed it. But with the way that certain _objects_ had responded to her touch of late… she was starting to question everything. 

_Who was she?_

“Certainly, Lord Vader, there is no evidence of what you claim… that’s preposterous,” her father was saying.

_But was it?_

Vader clenched his first, becoming acutely aware of the lightsaber attached to his belt. 

Considering that Organa may have stolen his child from under his nose, he had every right to be outraged. It had been a while since he had felt such a strong temptation to kill someone on the spot. 

But he recalled the face of his Master, how quickly Palpatine might react with displeasure if Vader were to disrupt the order he’d so carefully crafted by slaying one of his longest-serving senators.

“You will supply me with proof then, Senator,” he commanded. “Provide me a sample of the Princess’ blood by the time this week ends. If the tests agree with your claim that she is not, in fact, Force-sensitive, then I will take you at your word.”  
Bail Organa’s face went pale as Vader swept out of the room. 

__________________________________

For the Organa household, life after the  _ incident  _ was continually evolving. 

Leia noticed her father behaving strangely— growing simultaneously more affectionate and more withdrawn.   
She was surprised, later, when he told her something that she’d not expected to hear for several more years. 

He was resigning his position in the Senate. 

“I will formally announce this to the public tomorrow,” he told her. “But I wanted you to know first.”  
“And Mother? Does she know?”

“I’ve already told her,” he said. 

So she was the last among them to know. That was… not a surprise, all things considered, but she  _ was  _ surprised by the news as a whole— particularly since she had so long been considered his future replacement. 

Thoughts of campaigning and elections crossed her mind, but most of all, the looming threat of Vader. He wanted her  _ blood _ — by the end of that week, no less. 

Her father drew her close, whispered to her:

“Leia, do not trust Lord Vader. He can be quite deceiving. Make no contact with him in the Senate— unless he contacts you first. Keep your head down, and be brave, my darling. Everything will be alright.” 

But Leia had already felt it— things were changing, and nothing could return to the way it once was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? I made some edits to this chapter toward the end to add clarity/detail. I hope that you are enjoying the story! Thank you so much to everyone reading! <3


	5. Chapter 5

_ She dreamed of a lake _ —  _ the woman who was always there in her dreams, standing beside it, gazing out upon the waters. She was clad in the gown that Leia had found in the apartment _ —  _ but this was a dream that she had never seen before.  _

_ Perhaps most notable was the fact that, this time, another person was by her side _ —  _ a man, dressed in a brown robe of some sort. His golden-brown hair was cut completely short, save for a peculiar braid at the back of his head. The woman drew him closer to her, and they kissed. But then she drew back, as if filled with regret.  _

_ “I...shouldn’t have done that.”  _

This dream felt oddly like she was intruding on another’s life… like when she was little and she’d go snooping around the palace, sneaking through hidden passageways to eavesdrop on her parents in their chambers… only to leave minutes later because they were talking about “grown-up stuff” and she’d thought it too boring for her childish curiosity. 

_ Suddenly, the dream’s atmosphere shifted… the man appeared older, more untamed… the lake shifted to fire. She swore that she could hear screams… but those too died down, until she could hear nothing but the pounding of her own heart.  _

She awoke with a start. Apparently, she’d fallen out of her bed. Her father was there by her side; he pulled her to her feet. 

“Leia, are you alright?”  
“I’m fine, Father. It was just a bad dream.”   
She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face as she steadied herself, awakening to the reality that lay before her.   
Her father would be removing himself from Coruscant soon, and the apartment would be hers. After the resignation announcement, it was largely assumed that Leia would, in fact, take his place.   
The opposing candidate, after all, did not have the advantage of being a member of the royal family… but he _was_ a staunch Imperialist. So that was a hurdle she had to jump. 

Her father’s belongings were now being packed into boxes by aides for his return to Coruscant soon… and the apartment would be hers. The furniture would stay of course, the hardware would stay, and most of the decorations would remain as well— to make it feel more like home. 

But some things were Bail’s and Bail’s alone, if only to preserve them for Alderaan. 

_ Things were changing _ —  _ everything was changing.  _

After Vader’s visit, what had once seemed bright and filled with life was now dark. Tense. Cold. 

“Father,” Leia asked. “Doesn’t Vader… want my blood?”   
“Yes,” he said. “But we’re not giving it to him.”  
“ _What?_ ”  
To defy Lord Vader was death… every Imperial citizen knew that. The Organas were… not on the best of terms with the Empire, to say the least, but they should have known the risks in going up against Vader. How would her father escape from this net they’d been ensnared in?

“We’re giving someone else’s blood instead,” he stated. “A willing substitute… Leia, you must understand this. If Vader did, in fact, get hold of an actual sample of your blood, the results could be… catastrophic.”  
“Because I’m Force-sensitive?”  
Visibly, Bail grimaced. 

“Yes,” he said. “There is potential that you may be Force-sensitive.” 

_ Potential,  _ Bail thought grimly. What a bold-faced lie. There was no room for doubt when she was descended from the bloodline of a man the Jedi claimed was the most powerful Force-user in millenia, when both Vader and Ahsoka had recognized her abilities. 

_ But he couldn’t tell her the whole truth… not yet.  _

“So you can tell if someone is Force-sensitive from their blood?” Leia asked. 

“The Jedi had their ways of knowing,” Bail said. “Tests, training… yes, sometimes they could do it through blood. They said there was some sort of property that measured the amount of sensitivity one had in the Force— I don’t quite understand it myself, of course.”  
“And Vader can’t know about me?”  
“I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of the situation, Leia. If Vader gets enough information… if he finds enough to believe that you _can_ wield the Force significantly… then he’ll do everything in his power to _corrupt_ you. To turn you to the dark machine that he’s become. And it will _hurt,_ Leia.” Her father’s voice shook. “It will hurt worse than anything you can possibly imagine. You won’t _be_ the same person that you once were, and… the galaxy could suffer for it.” 

“I understand, Father,” she said. 

But really, she didn’t understand. Not at all. What was so important about _her,_ that Vader could possibly want?   
It was not so long ago that Leia thought she knew who she was. The Princess of Alderaan, born to parents she’d never know, adopted into the loving care of Bail and Breha of the House of Organa. One day, she’d be a Queen, perhaps an Imperial senator sometime along the way. She’d fight the corruption from the inside, turn the system upon its head. And always, she would serve and protect her people, above all else. 

But then came the Rebellion, and Vader. And her world had been turned upside down. All because of a mere streak of curiosity and some blasted droid. 

Her father’s resignation, too, had somewhat thrown a wrench in her plans. She’d expected to have several more years of experience in the Apprentice Legislature before joining the Senate. But as things stood, it appeared that, if elected, she’d be the youngest Senator in years. 

Comical. She could just see her opponents lining up to attack her for her “youth and inexperience,” as if she were some naive, shrinking violet 

But Leia had been training for this her entire life, and she wasn’t about to cede Alderaan’s Senate seat to an Imperial puppet— no matter the fact that he was four times her age. 

She would prepare herself, prove that she was, in fact, suited for the job. It kept her steady in a time like this. At least she had something that she could work toward— no matter how useless the Senate might ultimately be under Palpatine’s rule. 

She should get to work. Before she knew it, the rest of that day was spent plotting out her campaign. 

__________________________________

Her father left for Alderaan the following morning. She bid him goodbye at the spaceport— surprised to find herself overcome by emotion. 

He’d left her the droids, R2-D2 and C-3PO— and the ship, the _Tantive IV_ , was now hers as well. She’d already utilized it for a few missions, and she was well acquainted with its captain, Raymus Antilles— a distant cousin of her father’s. Really, neither of these gifts were a surprise to her. She knew she’d inherit them someday, eventually.   
She met her father in a warm embrace, held onto him for several seconds and didn’t let go. 

“I’ll miss you, Father,” she said. 

“I will miss you too, Leia,” he returned. “Your mother and I are proud of you. Be strong, and keep in touch. Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” she answered, and watched as he stepped onto the boarding ramp— stood there, until the ship took off into the sky. 

She was alone in the Imperial capital. Not truly alone, of course. She had her father’s aides at her side, and the droids. And she was aware that Winter, her childhood friend, would come soon for a “visit”— to help with aiding duties, along with… certain  _ other _ matters. 

_(She’d heard her father say it himself, that_ Winter _would be the blood donor. Her friend was willing to give, in order to keep Vader off her trail.)_ _  
_ In truth, Leia was tired of everyone giving for her, tired of others she loved having to make sacrifices for her sake. But she missed her friend, knowing that they’d been pulled apart by recent events. And she wanted to be grateful. 

So she waited, as her father travelled back to their homeworld. 

__________________________________

Bail Organa didn’t want to leave his little girl behind. The voyage home, he was wracked with guilt. 

_ Suppose his plan failed, and Vader found the truth about Leia…  _

_ Suppose the facade around which he and Breha had now built their lives crumbled before his eyes.  _

He’d consulted Mon Mothma— was this truly the proper time that he resign his career, in order that the Rebellion might advance? 

Mothma didn’t know the story of Leia’s biological parentage, though she’d known their little girl since her youth. So she couldn’t possibly know the stakes involved. 

Yet this was the plan that the top-ranking rebels had agreed upon. So Bail must agree. 

For ultimately, the Rebellion was to create a better future— for his daughter, for his wife, and for his world. It was for this reason that he must play along. 

In his desperation, he’d made a frantic holocall to Breha (multiple holocalls, in fact— she told him not to worry, that things would be alright in the end). He’d also made the decision to contact Ahsoka— told her to find a way to get through to his daughter, and fast. 

He’d even considered speaking to Kenobi— sending a transmission to him on the desert planet where he now resided. But he had another child who depended on him— the boy, Leia’s twin brother. 

Sometimes, Bail wondered— would the two ever meet one another? Would either ever know of their twin’s existence? 

It was a pity, the situation that they’d been thrust into at birth. Bail was grateful each day that he’d been able to provide Leia with a better life, how safe she had been until now, when faced with Vader… 

He could only hope that his ploy would work, that she would remain protected. 

In the meantime, Bail would begin his work underground to bring down the Empire. He hoped against hope that somehow, the conflict could resolve itself peacefully.   
Meanwhile, Winter would be sent on her way, back towards Coruscant. 

__________________________________

Winter Retrac was an orphan who had grown up among royalty. She had known her mother only the first few years of her life— but she knew that the woman was a proud Alderaanian, a Senatorial aide to Bail Organa, and that her name was Sheltay. 

She had vivid memories— for Winter’s memory was much better than most— of the meals that her mother cooked for her, of the trips she’d bring her on, into the Aldera mountain ranges, of the flames dancing by the hearth as she sat on her mother’s lap while she read her a story. 

Even then, Winter was well acquainted with the Princess Leia Organa. She remembered following her— somewhat reluctantly, for fear of getting into trouble— through hidden passageways of Aldera Palace, of helping her off the ground after she’d knee while running, and of laughing together as they tried on pieces of the Princess’s wardrobe. 

Then one day, her mother went with Leia’s father and the rest of the staff on a diplomatic mission and she never returned. Winter learned later that her mother had been shot— that she’d stepped in front of Bail Organa to take a blaster bolt meant for him when negotiations went sour, and she never recovered. 

Perhaps it was out of a sense of gratitude, a feeling of debt toward the woman who’d sacrificed herself for them, that Bail and Breha agreed to help raise Sheltay’s little girl. So Winter’s friendship with Leia continued to grow. Some in the court said that the two were as close as sisters— and she recalled sitting beside Leia during lessons, sharing jokes— Leia’s presence comforting her after the bereavement she’d gone through at such a young age. 

It was not long after the death of her mother that Winter learned Leia was, in fact, adopted. It made little difference to her. The two were just as close as ever. 

But now she sensed Bail and Breha’s troubled mood, as if they were hoping to contain a secret. And then she learned— Lord Vader wanted Leia’s blood. 

She’d heard the news from Queen Breha’s own lips— that there was a possibility that after all these years, Leia might be Force-sensitive. 

Knowledge of the Force was a rarity in the age of the Empire, but Winter, surprisingly enough, had an affinity for studying taboo subjects, so she was somewhat aware of the Jedi, the Sith, and the danger that all of this might bring. 

She and Leia had been apart for a time now— her duties in the Senate had kept the Princess busy. She missed her friend; life had grown so cold without her. 

But it had been decided— she’d give her own blood in Leia’s place, so that it would be passed off as Leia’s own and she’d slip through Vader’s fingers. 

The shuttle to Coruscant was lonely, the hum of the engines stirring quietly in the background. Winter clutched the tube containing the blood sample to her chest, telling herself she wasn’t nervous— logically, there was no reason for her to be. Queen Breha had filled her in on all the details of what to do upon her arrival at Coruscant— greet Leia, give the blood sample to the guard at the apartment, and he would take it to Vader for analysis. By then, all of this would have blown over, and things would return to a new normal with her serving as Leia’s aide. 

At the spaceport, the shuttle was stopped for a moment by stormtroopers. 

“We are here to visit the Princess Leia Organa,” Winter stated calmly, flanked by the pilot 

and the small crew. The troopers looked toward Winter, then back at their leader. 

“Move along,” one finally said. 

It seemed that no further incident was to occur until they reached Bail’s (now Leia’s) 

apartment. Up an elevator, down a flight of stairs, and at last, they were at the door. 

Winter looked to the guard, recited her line. 

“We have the sample,” she stated simply. “Make sure it is returned to the proper place.” 

The guard knew her meaning— knew that it was to be sent to Vader. He opened the 

apartment, let her inside, and went on his way. 

Leia appeared at the door.

“It’s been some time, Your Highness,” Winter stated. 

__________________________________

Vader was in a sour mood. Listening to the ramblings of politicians was not what he considered an optimal way to spend his time. And yet, once again, his Master had forced him into this position, at Governor Tarkin’s side. 

The Senatorial elections were something he would normally consider asinine— and still, today, this opinion held true. He despised the uselessness of it all, hated the meaningless hierarchies of power that Palpatine had put in place. And yet, for a time at least, these structures must remain, for the preservation of order.   
A new term of senators would soon come into power— the people would place their votes, and the votes would be approved (or rejected) by the Council of Moffs. The projected victories were now being discussed. Vader warranted it was fortunate that his features were covered by a mask; otherwise those in the room would clearly be able to detect his utter boredom with the matters at hand.

However, when the conversation turned to the situation of Alderaan, Vader snapped to attention. Still, he awaited the blood sample of the Princess, and this had reminded him once again. 

So she  _ was _ running for office after her father. And, as of yet, she was projected for victory. Her opponent, however, seemed to be the favorite in the room— an elder, loyal to the Empire…

Then Tarkin spoke.

“I believed it would be wisest to simply allow the Princess a victory in the election. She is foolish and outspoken… merely spitting out the anti-Imperial sentiments her father feeds her. It is only a matter of time before she incriminates herself and Alderaan, along with the Rebellion, is crushed.” 

A few murmurs around the room, mutterings of “Perhaps you may be right.” Then the officer guarding the door spoke. 

“A visitor for Lord Vader,” he said. 

The atmosphere grew to one of general puzzlement as Vader left the room. Standing there in the hallway, trembling, was the guard from the Alderaanian office complex. And clutched in his hand was a tube containing a sample of blood. 

So Bail Organa was— at least  _ seemingly _ — a man of his word. Vader did not waste time in speaking to the guard. He grabbed the sample from the man and turned to leave.

“You are to be commended,” he said. “Now, go.”   
He did not expect the sample to be correct. He had been prepared for disappointment from the start. But Vader was looking at the situation from a double lense— either he would find out the truth, that the Princess of Alderaan was his child and strong with the Force, or he would be let down in that respect, and so find confirmation of Organa’s disloyalty. It would not take much to have the former Senator charged with treason, stating that he had disobeyed direct orders, and thus, gaining victory over a possible rebel before Tarkin and others vying for favor with the Emperor did so. 

_ (For as much as he wanted to uncover the truth behind Leia Organa and her mysterious power, her resemblance to his beloved and, to an extent, his past self, he was afraid as well. To confront the longings of his darkest self… it was a risk that he almost did not want to take. If he was met with failure, then things would remain as they were, and at least, he would not have to confront his past mistakes. If only he had not been such a fool…) _

__________________________________

The blood sample was incorrect. Vader was certain of it. He had ordered the medic droid to test the statistics countless times now— the midichlorian levels were that of an average human. The DNA did not match with his own. But he had  _ felt _ it. Leia Organa  _ was _ Force-sensitive. 

So Bail Organa had, in fact, given him the wrong sample. That was… unsurprising. This would only be further proof of disloyalty… evidence that may need to be put to use soon. 

In the meantime, what was to be done with the Princess? 

In the Senate chamber now, she was debating her opponent. It was surprising, he thought, that the man was Alderaanian, but still as much Palpatine’s sycophant as any other. Vader stole in from the shadows and decided to watch. The man was nearly fifty years her senior, but she did not appear intimidated by him in the slightest. 

Impressive. 

_ (Again, he thought of his Padmé, her resilience in standing up to the Trade Federation… but there was something else that stirred within her too, a certain fire that reminded him of…  _ Anakin _ (himself, when he was young.) _

Perhaps there was yet a way to receive the true blood sample… perhaps he was hasty in using this opportunity as a way to incriminate Bail Organa. 

_(But what would he do when he discovered the truth? Hand her in to Palpatine?_ No, he couldn’t do that. To let his daughter _(if she was, indeed, his daughter)_ fall down the path which he had fallen?)  
Yet it would surely be a satisfaction, he mused, to turn Bail Organa’s child against him… to take her for his own…

She would be the Rebellion’s downfall, if she did, in fact, turn. 

_ But he would not, he decided, inform his Master of any of this…  _

Palpatine did not need to know. 

There she stood, fiery and passionate, filled with what she surely believed to be a righteous wrath. 

Foolish girl. 

He had been that way once, so young and eager to bring  _ justice  _ to the worlds of the galaxy, hopeful to bring  _ peace _ .

But peace was a lie. There was only passion. 

“Citizens of the galaxy,” the Princess spoke, “you _must_ wake up! We have been silent for far too long. I have seen glimpses of life on the Outer Rim… the people there are starving, enslaved… but we’re not doing enough. The _Empire_ is not doing enough.”  
The audience chamber went silent for a moment… as if contemplating the words she had spoken. Then she was met with a tepid applause. 

The look on her face suggested disappointment… had anyone truly received her message? 

At last, the pods descended from the air, and she stepped out. 

Vader considered what Tarkin said earlier:  _ “It is only a matter of time before she incriminates herself and Alderaan.”  _

As she passed him by, Vader said to her, “That was a fine speech you made today, Your Highness.” 

Leia looked at him, startled, unsure of what to say. She seemed to decide upon a somewhat sardonic, “Thank you, Lord Vader,” before her bodyguard attempted to lead her away. Vader stopped him. 

“I would like a word with you, Princess,” he said. He looked to the bodyguard. “In private. You may leave us.” 

The guard looked fearfully between the two of them, resolve clearly breaking. Vader knew what he was thinking.  
“No harm will come to her. Leave.”

The man obeyed. 

Vader pulled the Princess aside, into an empty corridor. She protested little— far less than the previous encounter at least— but when he let go, she mockingly raised an eyebrow at him. 

“May I ask why I am being detained, Lord Vader?” she asked. “This isn’t an arrest, is it?”  
“No,” he said. “I informed your guard that no harm would come to you.” 

“Then what is it you want?” she asked with slight impatience. 

A pause, then: “I know that the blood sample your father presented to me is false.”

For a moment, she seemed to be at a loss. 

“Why would that be so?” she returned. “What evidence do you have?”

She looked up at him, trying to see what might lay behind the mask. She felt only darkness. 

“The Force is strong with you, Your Highness,” he stated. “I have felt it.” 

“The Force?” she breathed.

“Yes, the power that belonged to the Jedi… as well as the Sith. But the sample indicated the same level of ability as a normal human.”   
“Well… perhaps the _sample_ was right. Maybe I am just a normal human. Farewell, Lord Vader.”

She didn’t want this...

“Your Highness…” he said. “Don’t go.”   
He took her hand and pulled her back toward him. 

“Vader, I need to return to my apartment. Let go of me!”

A pause, and at last, he let go. 

She began to walk away. Then he spoke again.

“You wish to make change in the galaxy, Princess, do you not?”  
She stopped for a moment. He was right… she did want to make a change. But _his way_ was not the way. Of that, she was certain. 

Still, his words haunted her… long into the night. 

That evening, she contacted her parents. She told him about her debate, about Winter… 

She left out the part about Vader. 


	6. Chapter 6

The Imperial palace twinkled with grandeur. 

Leia knew the sight of its outer walls well— she’d seen them many times on visits to Coruscant. She had always believed that it would be a long time before she’d ever view the inside; but now that chance was looming ever closer. 

If she was being entirely honest, the palace wasn’t exactly a place that she wanted to go— for, as beautiful as it was, the sight still sickened her, given all that it stood for, all that it  _ was,  _ the man who it housed. 

Following her election, she was met with many congratulations— some more begrudging than others. The press seemed to have taken a slight interest in her— which appeared to be due partly to her status and partly due to her young age. Most of the attention did nothing but irritate Leia— everyone seemed to see her as nothing more than a princess, playing at politics in an attempt to be like her senator father. Nobody cared for the message she was trying to bring— of change, of reform, and most desperately, of revolution.   
(But there were several _grievances_ she wished to bring to Palpatine’s attention when at last she had her audience with the Emperor.) 

Her parents’ congratulatory message was the one that stuck with her the most, of course— it brought back so much of the warmth, the affection, that she’d been missing over the last couple of weeks. 

“We’re so proud of you, Leia dear,” her mother smiled. Her father added, “Words cannot describe our pride. The youngest senator ever elected…”   
Nevertheless, Leia knew she must distance herself from her parents if she was to succeed in her endeavors. (And, in spite of everything, she still had so many questions…) 

She called her mother back some time later, hoping that perhaps she could find some answers— or closure, at the very least. 

_(The people in her dreams… the latent abilities Lord Vader had labeled “Force-sensitivity”...)_ _  
_ And yet all that came out, all that it apparently boiled down to, was this… 

“Mother, what were my birth parents like?”  
Her mother’s lips parted, seemingly in shock. 

“Why this so suddenly, Leia?”  
_Sudden?_ Leia thought, _I’ve been wanting to know for my entire life!_ _  
_ Wanting to know her entire life, asking since she was old enough to speak, to understand anything… yet all she ever got from her parents were vague non-answers.

“I just… want to know. Did you know them well?”  
Breha shifted ever-so-slightly in her seat, the sound of her silk skirts rustling in the background. 

“Your biological mother I knew well. She was a close friend. You resemble her deeply— in more ways than one,” she said, sighing deeply, melancholy. “Your eyes, your hair, your stature—” the last she said with a playful wink, knowing that Leia’s short height had been a point of contention between them during her youth. “And most of all, your hearts— both set upon protecting the people you love.” 

_ So, who was she, this other mother of hers? _

“How did you meet her?” 

“Well… she was involved in the government of another planet. We met during negotiations.”   
“What about my father?” 

Breha shook her head. 

“Him, I did not know well. He was…” she paused, as if considering a moment “... a pilot. They say he was brave, if a bit stubborn, and he tended on the reckless side of things… not unlike yourself, dear Leia. But he _was_ dangerous… perhaps not the best model to emulate…”  
Yet he was, so her mother said, not unlike herself… could that be so?  
_(Who was the man in her dream… was that him? That wild, untamed man in robes? She didn’t think she wanted to be like that man… the thought disturbed her as much as it intrigued her…)_ _  
_ “Leia…” her mother said at last “...be safe. I love you.”   
“I love you too,” Leia said, and the hologram flickered off. 

That hadn’t necessarily answered all her questions, but it was enough for now. 

She turned, and saw Winter emerging from the adjacent room. 

“Your Highness,” she said. (When had she become so formal? When had Winter gone from simply calling her by her given name to… this? Was it Leia’s fault, for distancing herself for such a great length of time?) 

“Another message for you. It’s from the Imperial palace. You’ve been asked to appear before the Emperor at the next gala.”

A chill ran up Leia’s spine. So her time had finally come. (She’d known this was going to occur… but it was still… a bit unnerving, to say the least. 

“Thank you, Winter,” she said. She knew that invitations such as these were not something to refuse. 

In that case, it was best that she send a response immediately. 

__________________________________

The operation on Coruscant was taking a bit longer than Ahsoka had expected. This was a setback, to be sure, but she was used to dealing with setbacks of many natures. She could handle this. 

Life in the underground bunker where she’d set up camp was a lonely prospect. Waiting for transmissions from commanding officers, she’d find odd ways to pass the time. At one point, she’d taken to counting the cracks in the floor (thirty-seven, the last she’d checked— it didn’t seem like something was apt to change.) 

But most of all, she listened— listened to the vibrations in the Force— the light that sparked from each of the individual beings who’d scratched their livelihoods out within the center of Coruscant— and looming over it all, a greater sense of peril, of darkness.   
There was one aura, beside that of the Emperor, that stood out to her above all the rest— sickened her, really. The utter _darkness_ , the chaos, that had overtaken this person’s soul frightened her… as did the strange familiar pull she felt toward it. 

She thought, strangely enough, of Anakin, her former master, (though he was long dead, of course), and she wondered what it could all mean… 

Then suddenly, her commlink sounded a familiar chime, and she snapped back into focus. As always, the signal was encrypted, and she spent a few moments while decoding it guessing at who it might be. Perhaps Commander Sato, or any member of the crew of the rebel ship known as the  _ Ghost _ .

However, she soon recognized the message for its true sender— Bail Organa. 

A few more key presses, and the hologram flickered to life… a tiny, low-quality image of the (now-former) senator. 

Ahsoka had heard the news, knew that Leia had recently taken over Bail’s position. It troubled her, in all honesty. As a senator, the girl would be exposed to far too many Imperials, and her growing Force connection would make this too risky. 

But Bail, so he said, had a plan. And while Ahsoka secretly wished the Rebellion would become less entangled with politicians. Bail was an exception— she trusted him. He and Mothma were the backbone of the operation. Moreover, she had an affinity for his daughter, wanted to aid her… 

_ (Everything might work out in the end if she could just help that girl avoid the shadows.)  _

“Ahsoka,” Bail was saying, “can you hear me?” 

She indicated that she could. 

“Please, I need you to find a way to reach her before she sees the Emperor… before Vader gets to her.”   
“I think I can do that,” Ahsoka said. Already, she was formulating a plan. It was risky, but it would be worth it if it did, in fact, work. 

Still, she regarded Bail’s warning, that he didn’t want his daughter caught up in the Rebellion. As it turned out, that was going to be a difficult promise to keep. 

__________________________________

The gala was in a week, Leia knew. It was plenty of time to prepare herself, but Winter was already rushing to get everything organized. 

Winter wasn’t a frivolous girl, but she’d become quite fixated on preparing Leia’s wardrobe. 

“You’ll need to make a good first impression, Your Highness,” she said, and Leia admitted that she had a point. The Imperial court put a great deal of stock in appearances =, for whatever that was worth. 

Then she remembered— the way Winter had so enjoyed watching the seamstresses and tailors of the palace at work as a child, the way her face had lit up when tracing her hands over the fabric of the pieces of Leia’s wardrobe that she’d lent her (and at some points, Leia recalled wishing she could give Winter all her finery— just be done with it all— but her aunts would probably have killed her.) 

If anyone knew the impact and nuances of the thing that Core-Worlders called high fashion, it was Winter Retrac. Leia was tempted to just let her childhood friend do all the choosing for her. After all, she was occupied right now… her holopad flashing with all the signs of Rebellion. 

_ (They were mobilizing for military action… that much was evident. And Leia still did not know who the perpetrators might be, caught up amidst a tangle of codenames and passwords…)  _

Throughout the room, Winter had strewn countless pieces of Leia’s formalwear, all of traditional Alderaanian make. The girl tilted her head to the side, examining them each, then as a whole. 

Were they too simple, perhaps?   
She considered for a moment… 

Perhaps it would be best to supply another outfit for Leia… something new.  
“Let’s go, Your Highness,” Winter said. Leia looked up with shock. 

“Go?” she asked. “Go where?” 

“I think it would be best if you wore an entirely new set of clothing for your presentation to the Emperor.”   
Leia sighed. 

“The public already sees me as just a princess playing dress-up, Winter. I don’t want to reinforce that image. And besides, I’m busy.”   
“With what? We both know that you’ve been ‘working’ far too long to still be answering messages from the Senate.” 

Quickly, Leia flicked off her holopad. Winter didn’t  _ know _ , did she? She couldn’t. 

“Oh come on, Leia,” Winter urged. “Let’s go explore the capital! It’ll be good for you to get out… it’ll be just like old times.” 

_ Just like old times… _

While Leia knew that things couldn’t truly go back to the way they’d once been, she found herself relishing the idea. 

“Usually, I was the one suggesting we go on adventures back then,” she reminisced. 

Winter turned serious. 

“That’s exactly why I want you to get out again,” she said. “If you’re always absorbed in your work, you may not have enough energy to bring about the Senate reforms you want to see. And besides—” she grew suddenly more tender “— I miss you, Leia.”   
That last was enough to bring her around. In spite of everything— Vader, the rebels, the Empire, the Senate— she wanted to see her friend happy. 

“Alright, I’ll go,” she said, smiling. Clothes-shopping wasn’t her ideal way to pass the time, but she’d manage— she’d enjoy herself even, do a bit of sight-seeing. 

With Winter staying just behind her, Leia left the apartment and her duties behind— if only for a moment. 

_ Just a moment, and yet that was all it took.  _

__________________________________

Ahsoka knew it would be reckless to travel alone, exposed, in broad daylight through the central hub of Coruscant. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, so she wrapped a cloak around her head, leaving most of her face in shadow. As much of the time as was possible, she stayed in the middle of the crowd of people. Their numbers became her shield. 

Her goal was to reach the Princess as quickly as she could, without being noticed by anyone who might have the sense to report her to the authorities. 

Here was the plan: She’d make her way toward the apartment. Entering the building would be too risky, she knew— but she’d ask the staff outside for Leia Organa, see if she was present, then assess how best to communicate with her. Once she knew she’d gotten Leia’s attention, she could go from there. 

If things got desperate, she had an encrypted datastick she could pass on to the girl with a message. 

What she hadn’t been expecting, however, was to feel her presence draw suddenly so near. 

She turned, and saw her— saw Leia walking on the street, along with another girl— a human, the same age, pale blonde hair posing a sharp contrast to Leia’s brown. It was odd. Someone of that status wouldn’t normally be walking about among the common people with such little company. Some of the crowd seemed to recognize her, while others didn’t. Ahsoka stopped, and began walking toward the two. 

Leia froze, startled by this tall, cloaked stranger who seemed to apparently be approaching her. Winter tugged gently on her arm, pulling her away. 

“We should get going, Your Highness,” she murmured, but some unknown force compelled Leia to stay. The figure drew closer. 

In a low, but strangely familiar female voice, the person spoke. 

“Hello, Princess. It’s been a while.”    
“Do I know you?”   
Beneath the cloak, she saw a flash, a pair of blue-green eyes, orange skin, with

luminescent white markings. A rush of childhood memories came flashing back to her. Of a Togruta woman, her father’s friend, who spoke to her kindly, who helped her in various endeavors, and told her stories, of adventure, of special training that she might one day receive. 

_“Aunt ‘Soka.”_

A smile crossed Ahsoka’s lips, and the Force sang, all around them. She looked Leia in the eye. 

Her training would begin today. 


	7. Chapter 7

Vader knelt low within the presence of his Master, remaining perfectly still, perfectly silent, save for the sound of his respirator. 

Carven onto the Emperor’s ashen pale face was a smirk. If he suspected any thoughts of disloyalty stirring in the mind of his apprentice, he did not show it. 

A few heartbeats, a few breaths, and Vader recited the line that he knew by memory: “What is thy bidding, my Master?” 

He kept his inflection low, near-robotic. 

Palpatine must not sense the dissent that was churning within, nor know that, while his Master spoke, Vader’s mind was elsewhere. 

He talked of a disturbance in the Force— loud and sudden. 

“Have you felt it as well, Lord Vader? I sense that you have.” 

“Yes,” Vader said, and it was true. 

The prior evening, he had sat alone within his meditation pod, the one place where he could at last be free of that accursed mask, the engineered atmosphere that surrounded him remaining a sufficient replacement for the time. 

He meditated, and at last fell into what some might consider to be sleep. The Dark Lord rarely dreamed— his visions had faded away ever since the incident on Mustafar— which had left him scarred, barely even human. 

But here, in this sleep, he thought of HER once again, and their child, a mere shadow, drawing ever closer. 

_ “Father…” the child said, and he thought he could make out its face, very nearly. Its eyes were like those of the Princess… he swore.  _

_ “Father…” she repeated, but he soon realized that she was addressing another…  _

_ She did not belong to him.  _

_ He dreamed then, of the past, of Padmé, and of Ahsoka, his former apprentice, the girl in whom he’d instilled so much of his own recklessness, the girl who’d left, and then returned, when it was too late.  _

_ He dreamed of a lightsaber, buried in the snow, left there, after everything was over.  _

_ She was gone.  _

_ Just like everything else that had meant something to him, she was gone. _

But then, he felt it. 

An echo of that spark… two sparks, orbiting one another, in the dark.

He had felt, earlier, a trembling in the Force, one that made its way into his soul, and now still lingered in his mind, so bright, so familiar. 

It plagued him to no end. 

He did not speak to his Master any further on the subject. 

Now Palpatine had moved on, to speak about the Senate— the gala, the ceremonies, other useless things meant to appease the masses. Vader had more important things to worry about. 

He thought, once again, of the Princess— the fact that her very existence could mean that his Master had  _ lied _ to him…

In the dream, her visage had taken the place of the shadowy child he had always imagined for his own, in a world of what could have been, if he had not… 

“It seems, in your anger, that you killed her.” 

And that was when he began to realize. 

The truth. 

The lie. 

Had the Emperor, in fact, lied to him?

For if Leia Organa was truly his daughter, then Padmé could not have died on Mustafar, when he’d so foolishly attacked her. 

No. 

If the Princess was truly his daughter, then his wife must have lived at least long enough to bear their child. 

Which meant… 

That everything he had been living for, after crawling back out of the ashes of his past life, was merely a deception. 

The Empire as a concept, Vader believed, had its merits. The Republic and the Jedi had been too caught up in their hubris to control the vastness of the galaxy. Democracy was a flawed system. 

_ Someone  _ needed to rule over the scum of the universe… someone wise. 

Then who? 

He saw a vision of the future— or a possible future, perhaps. He extended his gloved hand to her, bidding she join him. 

Would she take it? 

He made up his mind. 

He would find the Princess. 

And he would turn her. 

__________________________________

On the street of Coruscant, Leia and Winter stood before Ahsoka.

“Leia, who is this?” Winter said, uneasy. 

“Hold on for a second, Winter,” Leia said. 

She pondered for a moment what to do. 

“Perhaps we should take this elsewhere,” she suggested. 

“I agree,” said Ahsoka. “Come with me, Princess.” She paused, then looked at Winter. “Who’s your friend?”  
“This is Winter,” Leia began. 

“I am her aide in the Senate,” said Winter, “But who are you?” 

“For that,” Ahsoka said, “You are going to have to wait… can she be trusted, Your Highness?” 

Leia couldn’t help but feel offended for a moment on Winter’s behalf. Of course her friend could be trusted!  
But then she considered the risks at hand. Whatever Ahsoka was doing could pose a danger to them all, and Leia didn’t want to bring anyone into this mess other than her own self. 

“She can be trusted,” Leia said, “but I don’t think she wants to come along.” 

“Wait, Leia I—”  
Leia cut Winter off for a moment, pulled her aside. 

“I don’t know what this is, Leia,” Winter whispered sharply. “It could be dangerous— I won’t leave you.”

“Winter, I know you’re concerned for my safety,” Leia said. “But I can handle this. Ahsoka is Father’s friend. I’ll be alright.” 

“Are you sure?” asked Winter. 

She paused for a moment, taking this all in. It was a lot. 

Leia’s father was friends with a stranger they’d encountered on Coruscant— this woman whom they’d never met. It seemed implausible, but she doubted that Leia would ever lie to her. 

“Winter, you can go on without me.”   
She looked back at the Princess. Where Leia would go, so Winter had always believed, she would follow. 

But now, she was trusted to stay behind. 

“I understand, Your Highness,” she said, and with a short embrace, the two girls parted ways.

As Leia watched her friend walk into the distance, she began to question the wisdom of her plan. 

She’d not seen her Aunt ‘Soka for several years now, and what she’d been doing in that time, Leia had no idea. She didn’t know the reason for following Ahsoka, or where they were headed. And yet… something about it simply felt… _ right _ .

They took a turn into an alleyway, then the entrance of a warehouse. Behind the doorway was a flight of stairs, descending toward— Leia quickly realized— the lower levels of Coruscant. 

That was right. She’d never gotten the chance to test if the accessway in her apartment complex truly worked. She had Artoo to thank for that. 

“We need to go down here if we’re going to talk, Your Highness,” Ahsoka explained, stepping down into the darkness. 

Midway down, everything began to click. Many of the lower levels were hubs for the Rebellion. 

Was Aunt ‘Soka… a rebel agent? 

It made sense, now that she was fully considering it. Ahsoka was a mysterious woman, never fully disclosing much personal information, and she was always moving.

Rarely had she stayed on Alderaan for more than a few days at a time— and as Leia grew older (and the Rebellion grew larger) she saw her less and less. 

But Ahsoka was a good friend of her fathers— and then she thought — could her  _ father _ be involved in the Rebellion as well? 

At first, the notion seemed absurd. Her father, an upstanding, dignified politician from a peaceful planet, who had raised her to uphold ideals of peace, would surely not be a part of something so… violently revolutionary. 

But the more she thought about it… the more it made sense. 

She needed a moment. 

There was a pause, as Ahsoka guided her into a near vacant room, some crates stacked on the far wall. She sat down on one of them, inviting Leia to do the same. 

Leia sat. 

“Do you know the reason why I brought you here, Your Highness?” 

“Not really,” Leia confessed. 

_ But I have some ideas,  _ she thought to herself. 

“Leia,” Ahsoka said. “You’re in great danger. Are you aware of that?” 

Great danger. She pondered that statement for a moment, wondering at which particular facet of her life Aunt ‘Soka might be referring to. 

Was it her drive to get herself involved in the Rebellion? Although no one knew of that… she hoped. 

Or perhaps… Vader. Her father must have told Ahsoka of the  _ incident.  _

“It’s Vader, isn’t it?”  
Ahsoka seemed startled. 

“Yes…” she said. “There’s a good chance that he’s… after you, Leia. For your power, more or less.” 

“My power?” Leia repeated. She was nobody powerful. And certainly, compared to Lord Vader, any so-called power would vanish to nothing. 

But she thought back to his confrontation in the hallway after her Senate debate. 

_“The Force is strong with you, Your Highness.”_ _  
_ “Am I really Force-sensitive?”   
“Yes, Leia,” Ahsoka returned. “And we need to control that before Vader gets to you. We need to work on your shields.”

“My shields?” Leia asked. She barely understood the concept of the Force and now, to hear this obscure phrase. 

“The shields in your  _ mind _ ,” Ahsoka stated. She took Leia’s hands in her own. 

“Look at me, Leia,” she instructed, and Leia obeyed. 

“Now close your eyes. What do you see?” 

_ The answer should be obvious, _ Leia thought. 

“Nothing. Well, darkness, I guess.”   
“Now focus. Relax your mind. And reach out with your senses.” 

A few moments passed, and then… 

She felt it. 

She  _ felt _ the flow of everything surrounding her. 

Light and darkness blending together… the emptiness of the room. 

Ahsoka’s presence touching her own. 

And all of it… encapsulated within the walls of her own mind. 

Her shields. 

“I… felt something.” 

“Very good,” Ahsoka said. “What did you feel?” 

“I felt light. And darkness. And… you. And I could feel the shields. Protecting my mind.”   
“Then yours are strong, Leia.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes. But that will only mean they will try all the harder to break them.” 

She paused. 

“I assume you are aware of what happened to Sabé.” 

“Yes.” 

She was. But wait— Ahsoka knew of this as well? She frowned, looked at her with suspicion. 

“How do you know about that?” 

Ahsoka grinned, though not necessarily from joy or any positive emotions.  
“Young one, there is a great deal that you do not know.” She said the next phrase carefully, as if testing Leia. “Are you familiar with the name Fulcrum?”  
Fulcrum— the point on which everything turned. 

What felt like a thousand memories sprung up within her mind. 

Fulcrum. It was a name whispered throughout the rebel networks… the one to whom she had answered when sneaking her way into the rebels’ portion of the dark Holonet.” 

_ >>What is your purpose in wishing to join this network?  _

And Leia responded with the truth. 

_ >>I’m interested in joining the Rebellion.  _

But that, surely, would not serve as proof enough. Tests were run, and at last she was able to enter. 

Fulcrum. 

“I know of Fulcrum,” she said. “But how do you know of all this? Ahsoka, are you—?” 

“I know Fulcrum,”Ahsoka answered, “because she’s me.” 

Leia’s lips parted in shock. 

Well, that explained quite a bit. 

“Aunt ‘Soka, you’re really a rebel agent?” 

“Yes,” she replied. “That would explain why I know of Agent Sabé’s fate, wouldn’t it?” 

A pause.

“Sabé escaped, but what happened to her within Vader’s custody left her in shambles. When the rescue team that had been assembled finally recovered her, she could barely form a coherent sentence. Hours later, we finally got her story. He had ransacked her mind for the information she held. And he’d  _ broken  _ her.” 

Broken her. It was a frightening thought.

“You wish to join the Rebellion, don’t you?” 

Leia nodded.

“Then you need to be trained. We don’t want the same thing to happen to you.” 

She reached out, touching Leia’s mind. 

“Let’s get started.”


	8. Chapter 8

Ahsoka reached out— with a gesture of her hand, Leia felt a presence enter her mind, and she flinched.

“Now, steady yourself,” Ahsoka commanded. 

Leia took a deep breath, made herself calm. 

She felt, at her core, a strength— of which she’d previously known. And she used it, made it her foundation. 

“Be ready,” the Togruta warned, and Leia thought she was. But guarding against a mind probe proved more difficult than she’d anticipated. 

To say the feeling was _ unpleasant  _ would be an understatement. It was agony. 

The sensation of another presence trying to invade her mind, to rip away her thoughts, her memories. Ahsoka pushed against her shields, testing their limits to see— would they break? 

With all of her might, Leia pushed her away.

“Very good,” Ahsoka said, but she saw that Leia was out of breath from exerting herself in her struggle to resist. 

She placed a reassuring hand on the Princess’ back.

“You did well, Leia,” she said. “But the Empire  _ will  _ be more harsh.”

“Then it’s not good enough,” Leia stated. “I need to work harder. Ahsoka, how do you know of the Empire’s methods?”  
“Observations,” she said. “Rumors, mostly— but also intelligence from the rebels. And if you’re set on joining them, then you must train.”

The Princess was set on joining— that was most certain. It could be seen in her eyes, but of course, such a thing would be dangerous. 

Ahsoka had heard the way they talked of the Emperor’s apprentice— Darth Vader, he called himself. While she’d not yet had the privilege of viewing him in person, she’d heard a thousand tales of passing encounters with the shadowy figure, clad all in black. 

What troubled Ahsoka the most was how deeply  _ familiar  _ he seemed. (It made no sense, but whenever she heard the name, she thought of the past, of her days with the Jedi Order.)

_ Vader… _

She knew that Bail had shown particular concern over the Sith Lord and his potential influence on Leia — which made sense. She was a Force-sensitive, operating within a political sphere, and already she’d come into contact with him. 

So she had to be careful, now more than ever. 

Ahsoka was willing to protect the girl, as she’d served to protect so many other Force-sensitive children from the hands of the Inquisitors. 

But Leia would soon need to stand on her own. 

She was a strong willed young woman; it was clear that she longed to be independent and rely on herself, alone on her own two feet.

That was the source of her frustration, surely. 

Because Ahsoka had said that, in the face of the Empire, what she’d done might prove inadequate. 

And so Leia looked back at her and spoke. 

“I need you to go harder on me,” she said. “Give me the best that you have.” 

With a wave of her hand, Ahsoka complied. 

__________________________________

She’d nearly collapsed from the pressure she felt after the probing. Ahsoka caught her before she fell to the floor. 

“ _ Leia _ ,” she called, but the girl was far off, deep within the confines of her own mind.

To the planet of fire, that she saw in her dreams.

She heard the breathing — Vader’s breathing, and then, to her surprise, she heard his voice. 

_ “Give yourself to the dark side… it is the only way.”  _

“ _ No… stop,”  _ she pleaded under her breath.

Ahsoka shaking her, desperately trying to get her to wake up. 

_ “Leia, are you alright? Can you hear me?”  _

And then she snapped back to reality. 

_ What  _ was  _ that? _

“I thought I heard… Vader,” she said, and Ahsoka looked back at her. 

“Sometimes, the Force can show you strange things,” she said. “And sometimes, they are things that are not truly there— they might be from the past, or the future. Or perhaps, an alternate future. The ways of the Force are mysterious, and it’s almost never clear how they work. You will gain an awareness of it from these lessons, and sometimes, it will overwhelm you.” 

She blinked. 

“I want to train,” Leia said. “That’s not going to stop me.” 

Ahsoka smiled. Her determination was admirable. She hoped it wouldn’t break her. 

_ (That familiar look in her eyes, reminding her of the way that she had once been _ — _ the _

_ young, scrappy Padawan, desperate to prove herself worthy. And the ambition, which was so like that of her former Master _ —  _ Anakin...)  _

They’d been training here in this warehouse, day after day, for nearly a week now. Leia was leading a double life, passing again and again from the Senate to this place of secrets. 

Yesterday, she’d asked to start handling weapons. She had seen the stormtroopers passing back and forth before the Senate chamber, heavy blasters in their hands— blasters that would quickly turn against any dissent, any opposition— such as the rebels intended to pose. Reason told her that she’d need to defend herself, along with their forces. 

_ She is growing bolder,  _ Ahsoka thought.  _ How will I tell Bail of all this?  _

Already, the rebel networks were pondering the future of House Organa. Bail seemed to have gone into solitude, and no one knew of Leia’s desire to involve herself. 

So how would this story play out? 

(Mothma was considering a way to discreetly contact him. The plan had not yet been made clear to Ahsoka yet.) 

Leia suddenly stood up, making her way to the exit. 

“I have to go,” she said. “Winter will be expecting me— we need to prepare for the gala. Thank you, Aunt ‘Soka.” 

“Be careful, Leia,” Ahsoka returned. 

Leia nodded. 

“I will.” 

And she left. 

__________________________________

Winter was waiting inside as Leia opened the apartment’s door. 

“I was so worried about you!” she cried, running toward the Princess to wrap her friend in a warm embrace. 

“There’s no need to worry, Winter,” Leia said with a smile, hoping it came off as reassuring. 

“We need to prepare for the gala soon,” she said. “I’ve got your dress ready and everything.”   
Her face turned from one of excitement to concern. 

“Leia, what were you doing? You’ve been acting strange all week— you keep sneaking off at odd hours to who-knows-where. I can’t keep track of you— not even the security guards can.”  
_That’s the idea,_ Leia thought to herself. But then she thought— should she tell her friend what she was doing? 

“I’ll explain later, Winter,” she said. Right now, she’d let her make the preparations for the gala. 

__________________________________

They stood there, the palace looming above them, prepared to enter at any moment. In spite of the fur cloak wrapped around her shoulders, Leia felt… cold.

In the moments leading up to their entrance, it was as if a sudden chill had swept over her, and she grew pale. 

“Are you all right, Your Highness?” Winter asked. 

Leia nodded. 

“I’m just...nervous, that’s all,” she said. Perhaps that was it. 

She was vaguely aware as their chauffeur drove off into Coruscant’s skyline, felt her fingertips move toward those of the entryway guard to hand him their admittance passes. 

He looked down his nose to see her, though they barely made eye contact. Scanning Leia and her companion, he sniffed. 

“Ah, so you’re one of the new arrivals,” he said with a tight smile. She wasn’t the only new senator who’d been installed, nor was she the only one who would be presented before the Emperor. 

“Senator Leia Organa. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. The Emperor is expecting you.” 

Her coat was lifted from her shoulders, revealing her bare arms and the dress underneath. Winter, it seemed, had outdone herself. It was elegant, flowing, and significantly darker in color than her usual attire. A long black skirt with its train trailing behind her, fabric glittering in the night. 

The guard took her arm, leading her down a corridor to the right. The lavish ballroom awaited, but first… an ultimate test of will. 

She reflected back on Aunt ‘Soka’s lessons. Inwardly, she must remain open to the Force… outwardly, stoic and shielded. 

But those inward openings, as she had said, could lead to  _ other _ things. A certain awareness. 

Was that why she felt this way? Cold and numb. 

And all around her, she felt it… the presences of others, no longer alive, surrounding her, calling out to her.   
_“Remember! Remember!”_

Children, screaming. 

Ghosts. 

The Jedi. 

_ Murdered  _ by the Empire. 

For a moment, on sheer instinct, she wanted to tear away from her escort. The disgust, the rage, that filled her system was nearly overwhelming in that moment. 

But she remembered her place… as a royal, a diplomat… potentially a spy in the near future. One who did not break. 

She must maintain the facade of innocence, show that she was  _ unremarkable _ .

So she stood in line with the other newcomers — (funny, most of them were twice her age at least.) It was safe to say that she felt out of place. And more than a little uneasy. 

The dark aura surrounding the Emperor’s throne made her  _ sick _ — she trembled within, but maintained a calm composure. 

Aunt ‘Soka’s voice echoed within her head:  _ “Be ready.”  _

She strengthened her shields — a necessary precaution, she reasoned, if Palpatine were to take interest in her. 

As he finished his greeting for the new senator from Christophsis — rumor had it, the previous had been dispatched for treason — she stepped forward. 

And paused. 

He looked _ nothing  _ like the way he did in the propaganda holograms. 

A man she’d grown accustomed to seeing portrayed as a benign, stately elder gentleman — such a sharp contrast to the atrocities his regime committed against its people — was nothing of the sort. 

Clad in a dark robe, with a hood that concealed most of his face — she could see his pale, ghastly white skin, his hands— no, claws — stretched out before him. 

The list of grievances she’d compiled in her head, swimming through her mind — she stood there for a moment, pondering what to do. 

Should she curtsy — a false display of reverence before this man she despised, as her aunts, and the royal court, would have her do, or stand in defiance, and perhaps suffer the consequences?

The Emperor spoke, a low, croaking sound. 

“It will be nice,” he sneered, “to have such a pretty face in the Senate.”

Then, with a wave of his hand, he dismissed her. 

She was left there, within the crowd of the other senators, fuming. 

_ A pretty face. _

That was all she was to them. 

Well, she would prove him wrong— 

And then, she heard the breathing. 

_ In. Out. In. Out. _

“You again,” she muttered sourly under her breath, because she knew what it meant.

“This is Lord Vader,” the Emperor croaked. “He shall finish with the proceedings.” 

And the Emperor was gone. 

Was it her imagination, or did Lord Vader seem  _ bored _ beneath that helmet? 

Because that was how he appeared to her— utterly disinterested. 

“It is my hope that you shall use your positions to better our glorious Empire,” he said, but there was something about the statement that seemed insincere. Vader— the Emperor’s attack dog —was merely going through the motions. 

_ So he doesn’t really believe the propaganda, then. What is it that he’s fighting for? _

As he finished speaking— admittedly, she glazed over the speech, but it was more words at a time than she’d ever heard Vader speak before— he dismissed them. Most left eagerly, grateful to be out of the Sith Lord’s presence. 

But Leia  _ swore  _ she could feel his eyes on her as she left. It unnerved her, but she brushed it off, ignored it for the moment. She would join Winter and the others in the ballroom. 

__________________________________

The Emperor had not paid any heed to the Princess. She’d been completely looked over, Vader observed. 

_ Good.  _

It was entirely a part of his plan. His Master  _ could not  _ notice her. 

For she was  _ his _ .

As she’d stood there, in the crowd with the other senators, he had sensed her, sensed that the shields around her mind had gotten stronger. She was a bright spot in the Force, but an enigma— all at once remarkable and a mystery. 

How had Palpatine, who was so much stronger than he,  _ not  _ been able to notice? (His Master, who had kept so many things hidden from  _ him,  _ had not been able to notice this girl and her hidden power.) 

Then again, the Emperor had not been looking. (But neither had Vader, when he discovered her.) 

So he wondered:

Who was her teacher?


	9. Chapter 9

Mothma looked up at the holographic projector, watching idly by as the Princess made her speech. Her fingers rested on the keypad before her, where she’d been typing only moments before. 

_ Bail would be so proud of her, _ she thought. Yet her former colleague hadn’t made contact with the rebel troops in days now, much to her dismay. 

The wisest strategy would be to find some way to contact him, to gather some intelligence on Alderaan’s royal house and their current whereabouts. 

Her mind turned to the gala that evening. A mandatory event— one that had best not be ignored, if she wished to avoid suspicions with regards to her dissent. 

Princess Organa— newly-elected into the position her father had so long held, that of Alderaan’s senate seat would be attending, she knew. 

Quickly, Mothma noted that she was the obvious link to her parents. Find some way to reach her, and give her a message for her father. 

It would be that simple. 

She had been acquainted with Leia Organa since the girl’s infancy— as a close ally of Bail and Queen Breha— and, moreover, their friend and confidante— she had known of their longing for a child. She had helped to bear Breha’s burden, when miscarriage after miscarriage had left the Queen with a broken heart. And she’d celebrated with them, when at last, a daughter was brought their way. So it was rather strange that they had not spoken for so many days in succession. 

She watched the girl speak— so fiery, so passionate. It was a call to war. 

The rebel troops, some of which Mothma had inspired— were still divided on this matter.  _ War _ was not an ideal that the senator aspired to. She was a pacifist, from a culture of peace. 

But there, beneath the veiled metaphors and polite euphemisms was a teenage girl, making a desperate call to arms. A girl from a world not unlike her own— who, nonetheless, somehow  _ felt  _ the need to abolish the Empire. 

Could the dream of peace be maintained in that process? 

It was a nebulous, ever-unknown answer, and at times, it tormented Mothma. She knew that certain factions of this constantly growing rebellion were already stirring the tides toward battle. 

And then, there were Palpatine’s own troops— who certainly did not  _ help  _ matters. Incognito forces had brought footage of their misdeeds, their rampant brutality against innocents. It was unclear how long this philosophy of  _ pacifism _ was going to remain intact. (For what was this growing arsenal, these fleets of rebel troops, intended for, after all?) 

Mothma was running out of cards to play. And yet— there stood a final option, manifest on the screen. 

_ Leia Organa.  _

__________________________________

Leia could feel several pairs of eyes rest on her as she entered the ballroom. A group of reporters swarmed around her, eager to plaster her image all over the HoloNet— she did her best to brush them off, though their questions irked her. 

“Your Highness,” this, and “Your Highness” that. 

She had to find Winter. 

In this crowd of elders, Leia felt more than a little out of place. The swirling, colorful mass was distracting, to say the least— an assault on all her senses, not to mention the  _ sense  _ of the Force, which she’d discovered so recently.  _ Vader was very, very near… _

(When Leia was a little girl, her mother had remarked that she must have a sixth sense. She could still remember the occasion— she and her parents were playing a game of scoopball out in the gardens, and the ball had gotten lost. As if on instinct, Leia became aware of the bush it had caught itself in, beckoned that the ball come to her. She hadn’t understood it at the time, but she wondered— did her parents  _ know? _ ) 

She searched the crowd, wondering, bemused, to herself, how Winter had hidden so well. It was hard to focus when she could see Lord Vader there on the edge of the room, and at this point, she was looking for  _ anyone  _ with whom she might find some company. She felt  _ exposed  _ right now, open to these reporters, and their never-ending questions,  _ prey  _ to the arrogant Imperial officers who leered her way. 

(And none of the questions for the HoloNet had contained any substance. They cared more about her dress, her hair— than anything  _ political  _ she had said in the Senate assembly the afternoon prior. She swore that she’d revert back to Alderaanian white entirely, if only to draw attention away from the outfit and onto her cause. After all, hers had been a speech carefully crafted— she’d tried so hard to pick all the right words to convey her message whilst slipping it past Imperial censors. For the  _ galaxy _ , which so needed a call to action.

But nobody listened, it seemed— nobody cared.) 

From the corner of her eye, she spotted a group that looked to be around her age— then recognized them as her previous colleagues in the Apprentice Legislature. 

Amilyn Holdo— the representative from Gatalenta— clutched a glass of glowwine to her chest, rambling enthusiastically on about some subject Leia couldn’t yet hear. As usual, her hair was dyed an extraordinarily bright array of colors, and the gown she’d chosen was… an  _ interesting _ choice of fashion. Amilyn was an odd girl, but she and Leia generally got on well, and she’d mostly proven to be trustworthy. 

Next to her, Leia spotted the boy from Coruscant— he was so snobbish, always putting on airs— she didn’t like  _ him _ much. And then there was a third figure, a fellow Alderaanian. 

Kier Domadi. 

Leia’s feelings in relation to him were… a  _ mess  _ to be honest. A few months earlier, she might have considered him something more, maybe almost a  _ first crush _ . He’d been a gentleman, and he didn’t look half bad either. 

But when Leia was promoted to Senator, she found herself distanced from the others her age. In fact, she’d scarcely seen them at all until now, and she didn’t have much time for social engagements, other than those consistently thrown by the Empire to flaunt the luxury of their regime at the least excuse. And then, to make matters worse, there was the whole situation with Vader. 

_ Vader… _

So  _ that  _ was what Amilyn was talking about. 

“I just wonder,” she chattered, “what’s behind his mask… what do you think would happen if you tried to take it off?” 

“I wouldn’t try that,” Leia cautioned. “Most likely, he’d kill you.” 

Amilyn whirled around, looking half-startled and half-surprised by the appearance of her old friend. 

“Oh! Leia,” she ran forward, wrapping the princess in a tight hug. Leia stumbled backward for a moment— were it not for her discipline in such areas, she might have tripped over the train of her dress. 

“Where have you been all this time?” she asked. “Well, besides being a senator, I mean. Um, congratulations!” 

“Thanks, Amilyn,” she smiled. She was doubtful of the wisdom of telling the girl about her other ventures.   
The Coruscanti boy was fiddling with the collar of his jacket— plagued, no doubt, by some invisible wrinkle or defect in his otherwise impeccable suit. 

“Vader likely isn’t much to see beneath that helmet,” he sniffed. “He’s probably no more than an old man. It’s the  _ outside  _ that makes him so frightening to people like yourself.” 

Amilyn’s shoulders slumped. 

“I’m sure there’s more to it than that,” she said. “Maybe he’s some sort of experiment gone wrong— a battle droid who’s become self-aware. Or maybe you take the mask off and there’s nothing there, like a ghostly apparition.” 

Leia shook her head. She knew that Amilyn was just on one of her regular flights of fancy, but something seemed  _ wrong _ about her declarations. Lord Vader was a mystery to the galaxy at large, but she  _ knew  _ that there was a man beneath the mask and the machinery. 

“That’s not how it works, Amilyn,” she said. “He’s human, like the rest of us.”  
“Really?” Amilyn raised an eyebrow. “Then why does it look like most of his body parts are metal?”   
“Fine. He’s a cyborg,” Leia relented. “But he’s not some _spirit_ , and he’s not a _machine_. He can think for himself.” 

_He consciously made the decision to back the Empire, a regime that_ enslaves _those less fortunate in the galaxy._ _  
_ And yet he also decided to spare her father, after he’d crossed that same regime. 

What in the  _ galaxy  _ was Lord Vader after? 

It was almost amusing, the way that the other guests put such distance between themselves and him, so that he was alone, a completely isolated figure on the edge of everything else. Why was he here, anyway? She couldn’t _ imagine _ the Sith Lord having taken an interest in dancing, or in high society. 

Most likely, the Emperor had forced him. In reality, he was no different from the rest of them. Put on a pedestal, feared by citizens on every planet from the Core Worlds to the Outer Rim, but still a slave to the whims of a tyrant. 

Did she  _ pity  _ him? She doubted it; he was still a monster. 

But the way he stood there… it was almost pathetic. She looked his way for a moment, and he (so she imagined) looked back. She felt chills run up her spine. Why did he seem to take such an interest in her? Was she delusional? 

Amilyn tapped her on the shoulder. 

“You’ve gone cloud-colored,” she said— her helpful little expression for when a friend was looking pale or more frightened than usual. “Wait, Leia, you met Lord Vader during your induction ceremony, right? What was it like? Are you afraid of him?” 

She didn’t think she was afraid of  _ him _ , exactly. He was mysterious, he was powerful, and he most certainly posed a threat to her, what with her rebellious convictions. But she looked deep inside of herself  _ (told herself she was not afraid)  _ and saw that, after all that… she wasn’t. 

(Vader stood there, and watched the Princess, mingling with the others. Unlike him, she was not alone. He tried to imagine for himself what it was like to be young, to be carefree — there had never been a time in Vader’s life, now that he considered it, when he was truly free. First bound to the slavers on his homeworld as a child, then to the Jedi, and now, to his Master, to Palpatine. Perhaps, if he had ever been a man on his own terms, coming here with his lover _(with Padmé)_ , he might have enjoyed it. But now, he could not relish in such things. He heard the whispers, and he knew that many of them were in regards to _him_.) 

The Princess’ companions looked upon him with a mixture of fear, contempt and disgust. They pestered her with questions, seeming to misunderstand even the nature of his existence. And she, to his surprise, was willing to defend him (so he thought). For a moment, the Organa girl, the one who had so recently spoken out in favor of action  _ against  _ the Empire, had acknowledged him as a  _ person (as there once had been a small boy, who stood before a Queen and declared that he was a person, and his name was Anakin.) _

In truth, Vader was no longer certain of his own humanity. 

_“Are you_ afraid _of him?”_ the girl who stood beside the Princess queried.   
Leia looked back up, toward Vader, then shook her head. 

“Me? Afraid of that wheezing tin can?”

She laughed, a slight chuckling sound. He was not going to intimidate her. Of that she was certain. 

And across the room, Vader turned away, clenched his fist.   
_Tin can._

Very well then. What did he care for a child’s thoughts?

Tarkin had spoken of her yet again that day; a passing mention of that speech. 

“You must see to it that she does not become a threat to us, Lord Vader,” he said. “She appears to have aspirations toward rebellion. If she gets out of hand… I want her taken into custody. Have her framed for treason, if you must.” 

There was a pause, as Vader considered his options.

Then: 

“As you wish.” 

He grew tired of being forced to comply with Tarkin— he was aware that much of the Imperial court regarded him as the man’s subordinate. A ridiculous notion. And yet, it seemed that Palpatine favored the Governor as the one who would command his newest  _ project.  _

No matter. That project, the battle station, was an abomination. 

The Grand Moff stalked cat-like across the ballroom floor. He looked to the corner where Mothma and her followers had gathered, then to her Highness. 

He smirked. 

“Princess,” he said. “Would you care to  _ honour  _ me with a dance?” 

Not waiting for a reply, he gripped her arm and pulled her onto the dance floor as the music stirred. Something in the back of Vader’s mind roared with displeasure. He doubted Tarkin’s  _ intentions _ for the girl were anything savory, and once again, in spite of the insults she had hurled at him only moments ago, he felt a certain desire to protect her, as a father might feel toward his daughter. 

But at last, she was dragged toward the other end of the ballroom, her presence in the Force still burning bright but growing fainter in light of the distance. 

Leia had been trained in ballroom dancing from a young age; her father had a fascination for the arts and, as princess of a world that deeply valued its culture, she was apt and willing to study such things. However, she’d not imagined that her skills would be put to the test while facing what was practically an interrogation at the hands of Governor Tarkin.

“I’m sure that you are aware, Your Highness,” he said, “that I’ve not simply invited you to dance to experience the  _ pleasure _ of your company.” 

He paused, ominously, and she twirled around him. 

“Your speech,” he murmured, “it was quite…  _ provocative _ .”

She startled, sucked in a breath. What she’d said had drawn attention from all the wrong places.

“There are rumors that the House of Organa is involved in a treasonous plot to overthrow the Emperor. Your political grandstanding about— what was it you said? Ah, taking a stand against _ tyranny _ — has only added to the heaps of evidence against you and your family.”

He spun her around yet again, and leaned closer to her. 

_ “What evidence?”  _ she hissed. 

“Oh, my dear princess, I’m certain you are aware of what I am talking about.” 

_ No. _

But just then, she saw a figure, coming from behind the Governor. He tapped him on the shoulder. She recognized him as Garm Bel Iblis, the senator from Corellia. A man just slightly Tarkin’s junior, though bearded where the Governor was clean-shaven, the picture of solemn dignity. He was known for frequently associating with Mon Mothma, and she believed Iblis had met with her father at least once. 

“May I have this dance?” 

Tarkin stepped back, clear irritation written on his face. It was no use defying the common courtesy of the gala. He could not simply  _ abduct  _ the princess, even in his bid to wear her down and gain information. He stepped aside, made a slight bow, a mock-chivalrous gesture, and released Leia’s wrist. Gratefully, she took Iblis’ hand instead. 

“I know what Tarkin is trying to do,” he stated, quietly, as not to draw attention. “Come with me. I think you might soon find yourself in better company.” 

She was led into the corner where Mothma and other senators had gathered. 

Mothma recognized her at once, smiled gently. 

“Ah, Leia,” she said. “It seems you have been busy lately.” 

“Indeed,” Leia returned. Between her training with Aunt ‘Soka, and the apparently “provocative” speech that had preceded her recent introduction to the Emperor, her plate was full. 

_ (But how did Mothma know this?)  _

She looked around, spotted many faces whom she knew well. They were allies of her father— all gathered here in the same place. Without him. 

She tried to make herself at home, but she could only wonder… 

What did it all mean?


	10. Chapter 10

She shrunk against Bel Iblis’ cloak for a moment, taking in the new faces she saw before her. Cinderon Malpe, Senator Pamlo— they were not unfamiliar. 

She stood a bit straighter and looked Mon Mothma in the eye. 

“Senator Mothma,” she said. “I’m honored to meet you.” 

“And you as well,” the Chandrilan woman smiled. “I congratulate you on your election.” 

“Thank you.” 

She’d heard many similar sentiments expressed over the course of the evening. This came as no surprise.   
But surely, Mothma must have some alternative agenda here— for why else had Iblis, her ally, taken her away from the Grand Moff Tarkin?   
It couldn’t have been from mere goodwill…

A dance between a recently appointed senator and a regional governor would raise no alarms; to the public, it would look completely in the ordinary. No one could know of the dangers that were lurking beneath the surface. It had been mere luck that had allowed her to escape with Iblis at the most opportune moment.   
So what _did_ Mothma want with her? 

_ A polite smile, a cordial handshake…  _

“Tell me, Leia,” she went on, “I trust your parents are well?”  
Leia’s mind went reeling back. _Mother, Father…_

Their holocalls had grown fewer and far between. They  _ seemed _ to be in generally good disposition, but she sensed, even from their holographic likenesses, a wave of exhaustion emanating from each. They were  _ tired.  _ But why? 

Yes, Leia knew that they bore on their shoulders the weight of their entire world (as she someday would as well— and did, even now, to an extent). But they had always been vigorous and full of life. She wanted to know what it was that troubled them, yet whenever she asked, she was met with,  _ “It’s nothing, sweetheart.” “Don’t worry about it.”  _

She didn’t understand. She was  _ not  _ a child. 

But she simply answered, “They’re fine, thank you.”  
_Was it the truth?_

Mothma had carefully created a plan, tried her hardest to choreograph the evening— as best she could, anyway— so that the Princess, her young potential ally, could meet up with her. 

And now… 

She was here. Finding information on Bail and Breha might prove to be difficult, however. 

The plan: Bel Iblis was to retrieve her, and bring her forth. And then, she hoped, an exchange of information. 

Those within Mothma’s circle had established a means of almost wordless communication. Between one another, they had signs, a form of almost wordless code— all the better to divert Imperial attention. 

When Leia had come, the circle was interrupted— she was young and naive, yet just slightly under the age when Mothma had gotten into politics herself. Could she handle it, though? 

The  _ burden  _ of a revolution… 

She was safe, but only for now. 

_ I’m sorry Bail, Breha,  _ Mothma thought.  _ For bringing your daughter into this fight.  _

She knew that if she took her mind to the logical conclusion, it would only drag Leia further in. She hated to think of the Princess as a tool. Yet, for now, this would be her function. 

She looked Bel Iblis in the eye— as Malpe and Pamlo stood aside. They weren’t the only ones, she knew— countless other senators stood against the Empire. (Yet not all were united; not all had pure motives. Even she and Bail disagreed on certain matters, and Iblis was considerably more  _ militant  _ in his ideology.) 

Still, they were allies. So she turned to Iblis, mouthed the word they had decided upon, and he stepped forward. Took the Princess’ hand, leaned forward, and whispered to her:  _ “We need you to meet us after the gala. There is something important to be discussed.”  _

Leia looked at him with surprise. Discreetly, he turned his back from the public view, pulled out some sort of writing utensil-- tipped with ink, and scratched a set of symbols onto her palm. Numbers. 




“This concerns your family and your people, Your Highness. Can you be trusted?” 

She nodded— the meaning of the numbers quickly coming to her. 

Of the many levels of Coruscant— this was the one on which she speculated the rebels were based, from the messages she had been keeping up with on the dark HoloNet before she’d begun her training with Aunt ‘Soka. 

_ This concerns your family and your people. _

Mothma and her group were rebels. Meaning… her  _ father _ very well could be too. In fact, this was most likely. And what of her mother?  _ Alderaan? _

Her world had never been regarded highly by the Imperial military, she knew that much. But the entire idea… it was so strange. Not entirely foreign, as it had passed through her mind many times, but it was highly implausible. 

Her mind began to ache. 

From the corner of the eye, she spotted Winter— a flick of platinum hair, a whirling skirt of velvet. The one she’d been looking for this entire time…

She wished that this could return to the semi-normal evening it had been at the start. A frivolous social engagement, only an inconvenience getting in the way of her duties, irritating her… not something that complicated and made a mess of everything. She wanted to run to her friend and explain everything, but would Mothma’s people stop her? They might have additional business with her now, and certainly they were trustworthy ( _ more trustworthy than Tarkin, at least). _

Well, she could simply ask. 

Pamlo turned to Senator Malpe, muttered something about tax reforms— presumably 

they were discussing an upcoming debate in their division of the Senate. Strange, however, that they would talk about it now. 

(Perhaps it was a code for something… Ridiculous as  _ that  _ seemed, it was relatively normal in the face of everything else that had come to pass that evening.) 

“May I… go now, Senator Mothma?” she asked. “There’s a friend I’d like to see.” 

Mothma looked back at Iblis, then smiled. 

“Of course,” she said. After all, Leia had no need to take orders from her, as of yet. She watched as the girl walked away. 

__________________________________

Vader looked on, the darkness swirling around him. He wondered, yet again, what the Princess— the  _ stolen child _ — was playing at. They could not have her. He would not let them. 

Bail Organa had evaded him the first time, but he would pay. And Vader  _ would  _ find the truth. He only had to wait, in the shadows. 

Alderaan, so it seemed, was in a state of turmoil. The Empire— more specifically, those forces under Tarkin, he knew— had grown increasingly strict in their guard over the planet. 

A planet of Rebellion. 

Such was the growing sentiment among the Imperial ranks. Especially following the Princess’ statements earlier.   
Met with such comments: _“Typical sentiment for an Alderaanian traitor.” “She’s been told such things by her father, no doubt— rebel sympathizer that he is.”_

Yes, it was no secret that, while their culture as a whole had become fashionable among the elites, Alderaan was growing less and less trusted as Palpatine (and Tarkin) tightened their grips. It was generally thought that neither the Queen, nor Bail Organa, were loyal.  _ Told such things by her father.  _

Her father, or a liar? (Was he truly her father… or had that role belonged to Anakin Skywalker all along?) 

_ This again. _

Vader had told himself that he was beyond such trivial speculation. The personal history of his past self— whom he had killed long ago— did not matter. His sole purpose should be the service of the Emperor.

But  _ if  _ that speculation was indeed true, then Palpatine was a liar from the start, and not worth his service…

So he must find Leia Organa, and see the truth. At once. 

He watched her, moving about with her friend. So carefree, she seemed, but there was a certain darkness stirring beneath the surface. Fear, too. 

(It could serve him well.) 

But how far had the rebels pulled her in already? He’d seen her conversing with Mothma and her  _ scum  _ earlier. 

And was she completely unaware of the fate of her world? A world already coming under siege… 

__________________________________

Breha watched as the Imperial convoy descended from the skies. The third one that week, to be exact. 

She turned to Bail, who stood by her side. 

“I do not understand,” she stated. “What is it that they want from us?” 

Bail smiled grimly. 

“I don’t know,” he said. Then he paused. 

“They must know— or at least suspect something.” 

They’d been suspicious since the very beginning.   
It seemed that Palpatine’s armies, his government… did not _favor_ Alderaan. This was a difficulty, to be certain, though it could certainly be explained. For Bail had spent much of his time in the company of the Jedi before they had passed. 

(They had needed to quell rumors, during Leia’s infancy, that she was a Jedi child, a youngling, spared from the creche on the orders of a prestigious royal house. 

_No, no,_ they’d insisted. _She is a war orphan, a normal child!_ _  
_ They’d lied. 

It had now become abundantly clear that Leia Organa was anything  _ but  _ a normal child.

The Imperial ship landed— in the docking bay, just outside the palace. Bail took Breha’s hand, squeezed it firmly. 

“I wish you luck, my Queen.” 

She smiled, behind that grin a look of determination. And together, they stepped out onto the terrace, into the warm light of the sun. They expected another meeting with an admiral, more threats, more  _ negotiations.  _

They didn’t expect the events that followed. 

__________________________________

There had been a time when Ahsoka Tano was infamous for her recklessness. As a Padawan, she’d earned from her Master the nickname “Snips”— a name befitting of her impudence and carefree attitude. 

As time passed, as she grew older and wiser and lost the ones that she’d loved, she had come to believe that she was past her ill-advised adventures and daring schemes. 

Apparently, she’d been wrong. 

As a rebel agent, she’d become accustomed to waiting in the shadows, watching until an opportune time. Now, the moment was right.   
It had come to her attention that Alderaan was under a sort of Imperial siege. Getting to the royal family would not be easy. 

However, it was necessary. She  _ had  _ to contact them. 

She’d been awaiting Leia in an alleyway near the palace— at least as near as she dared go. She didn’t want to be near that place, both for security reasons and for the  _ memories  _ that accompanied it. But a rendezvous was urgent. 

So she waited… and waited. And waited. 

The girl never returned. 

This was bad. The disturbances in the Force echoed loudly. A commlink would be necessary. 

Retreating back into the bunker where she’d spent so much of her time, she punched in the code that would lead her to Bail. Or so she thought. Something had blocked her transmission. 

_ An Imperial cruiser…?  _

In spite of her past reputation as “Snips” she proceeded with caution. A few… alternate codes would do. At last, she breached the wall. 

No one was there. 

“Viceroy, if you can hear me,” she said, “I fear your daughter is in danger. She went into the Imperial palace for the gala, and has not returned since.” 

What might have taken place there, that prevented her from leaving— even caused her to go  _ missing _ ? 

She thought back to their training together— how the girl had been so eager to learn, so ambitious. The shielding in her mind was excellent… yet that had not been enough for her. 

_ “Teach me everything you know,” she said.  _

But Ahsoka wondered: where had her power come from to begin with? 

She had seen something greater only once before— during her days with the Jedi Order. 

Her master, Anakin. That was where this all went back to…

_ He had always been looking ahead, beant on gaining more power, saving more people, winning more battles. She’d found that admirable.  _

_ But she remembered hearing whispers of disapproval from the elder knights, like Kenobi. Even Grand Master Yoda.  _

They feared such things would lead to the dark side, 

_ And the last time Ahsoka saw Anakin, he was not like himself. He’d tried to be affectionate, caring, loyal _ —  _ his usual self. But behind that had been paranoia, tension… such unpleasant feelings.  _

Where had it all gone wrong? 

And why did she feel a connection between Skywalker and the Princess?

He was dead. Along with the rest of the Jedi. 

Leia was here and in the moment. And she could very well be in danger. 

_ She still remembered the feeling— that she could never teach the girl all that she knew. That she didn’t want to. Her knowledge was… dangerous.  _

_ Guiding her student’s hands to the trigger and the safety on the blaster. Teaching her how to levitate the crates and other objects in the bunker.  _

_ She managed to lift the first crate, but only by an inch _ —  _ then it fell back to the ground. Yet she was winded, as if the energy had been knocked out of her.  _

_ “It’s… heavy,” she remarked. Then she tried again— to no avail.  _

_ “Relax,” Ahsoka said. “The weight is all an illusion. Size doesn’t matter in the eyes of the Force.”  _

_ She tried to imitate what her masters had taught her— gently levitating the box across the room.  _

_ “You make it seem so easy,” Leia sighed.  _

_ “It’s not easy,” she’d replied with a smirk. “I only have more experience.”  _

_ “I’d better get some experience, then,” Leia said— reminiscent of a similar sentiment Ahsoka had held as a Padawan.  _

_ “That being said,” Ahsoka countered. “It may not be wise to expand on your Force abilities  _ too  _ greatly, Leia. Your signature in the Force is already very strong, and your role as a Senator means you are exposed to certain  _ presences  _ that you’ll want to avoid.”  _

_ “Vader?”  _

_ “Yes,” Ahsoka answered. “And… the Emperor.”  _

_ “The Emperor…?!” Leia echoed, seemingly shocked. “He knows the Force?”  _

_ “He doesn’t just  _ know _ it, Leia,” Ahsoka grimly. “He is a Sith Lord.”  _

_ “That’s Vader’s title, isn’t it?”  _

_ She was confused.  _

_ “I often forget how much the Empire has erased,” said Ahsoka. “How little the younger generations know. The Sith are a sect of ancient warriors who opposed the Jedi… where they represented all that was light within the Force, the Sith represented the dark. Eventually, the Sith became narrowed down to two… a Master and an Apprentice. All we know is that Vader is the Apprentice… Palpatine, the Master.”  _

_ Leia’s mouth widened in astonishment, in horror. She’d felt there was something overwhelming, something dreadful, lurking within the already dark secrets of the Empire, but this…  _

_ How had Palpatine hidden this from the galaxy… for so long? And how had he erased so much of the past. The  _ Sith… 

_ She’d only a vague idea of what they were.  _

_ (“Papá, tell me more about General Kenobi,” she had said as a child, snuggled between her parents, beneath her bedcovers, as he regaled her with tales of the Clone Wars.  _

_ “He was a brave man,” Bail said. “Wise and kind, too. And I believe he had a wonderful sense of humor.”  _

_ “Tell me about what he did, Father! On Alderaan, I mean,” she said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. She’d heard the story several times already, but, like any child, she wanted to hear a beloved tale told over and over again.  _

_ “Well, we were desperate at the time,” he said. “The Separatists were closing in on Alderaan, then Kenobi came to our aide…” _

_ But she recalled later: “You won’t hear stories like that from the Empire,” her mother had said.  _

_ It was true.  _

_ The Jedi were talked of as traitors— the Sith were never mentioned. She had not even known the meaning behind Vader’s title until this particular lesson from Aunt ‘Soka.  _

What was he?  _ Lord Vader. The Lord of  _ what? 

_ She had heard, and repeated to his face, the other name for him.  _ Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith.  _ It was like a curse, a secret that she and her companions invoked upon him. As to what it meant? She may as well have been speaking Huttese.  _

_ The  _ Sith _ , the ancient enemies of the Jedi.  _

_ It haunted her, well into her meeting with the Emperor, all throughout the gala, when she felt a chill, heard the ghosts of the Jedi crying out.  _

She would not forget. 

_ Such a strong impression this had made on Ahsoka’s pupil that she was quite hopeful Leia would never stray from the right path.  _

Yet what had become of her, after the other diplomats had swept off into their personal shuttles, abandoning the palace (the Temple) for the night? Where had Leia gone? She was so difficult sometimes. And her presence in the Force, she swore, could feel so much like Anakin’s, in a way that felt too  _ sharp _ to be a coincidence. But why? She knew it would take some of her traditional recklessness to find out. 

__________________________________

As the admiral retreated from the dais on which Bail and Breha stood, they exchanged a look. Somewhere deep within the palace, an alert had sounded, one that should not sound. One of their agents had somehow managed to contact them. 

It wasn’t something that their Imperial guests could  _ hear _ — thank the stars— but it was troubling. Over the past week, the Empire had successfully made a blockade around the planet, effectively cutting off communication from outside. No wonder Leia had not been able to speak with them for so long. (Although they had managed to listen to her speech— its outspokenness was perplexing in its own right.) 

They were alerted to the fact that  _ this  _ type of communication had been sent when a stirring came from behind a curtain. It was one of the Queen’s most trusted attendants— interrupting a very peeved admiral mid sentence with these words, directed at Breha:  _ “A message, my Queen— from the  _ General. _ ” _

There was no true military on Alderaan, henceforth, no General. An outsider wouldn’t know that, however, so as a code word, it worked excellently. 

But that begged the question— how had any rebel agent managed to get through to them? 

Once the Imperials were finished with their hassling, the rulers of Alderaan excused themselves into the innermost room. Where a communication system that no one knew  _ existed _ was set up. 

The message was from Fulcrum.  _ (Ahsoka.)  _ Encrypted many times over, of course. Then, a distorted audio file: 

“Viceroy, if you can hear me… I fear your daughter is in danger. She went into the Imperial palace for the gala, and has not returned since.” 

All color seemed to drain from the Queen’s face. She looked to Bail— he was reacting no better, struggling to maintain his composure. After their recent encounter with Vader, this most likely meant only one thing. 

And he didn’t like it. 

__________________________________

As the nightly festivities came to a close, Winter noticed that Leia seemed eager to leave. Truthfully, she didn’t blame her. The Princess, it seemed, had been through a lot that night, and it was more than even the standard fare for a newly inducted Senator. 

She began to usher Leia toward the exit… then heard a sharp, breathing sound. Was it her imagination, or was Vader coming toward them?   
Leia’s eyes widened. 

“Winter, go.” 

“Your Highness…?” 

She lowered her voice, “Is he  _ following  _ us?” 

“Just go!” 

Lord Vader swept forward, gliding smoothly and effortlessly closer. 

“You would be wise to listen to her.”   
Winter’s eyes filled with dread. She didn’t want to leave Leia alone to deal with this… _monster._ And yet…

There was something about the Princess’ demeanor that said she had dealt with this before. 

“I’ll be fine,” Leia said.

Looking back doubtfully, Winter ducked behind a corner. Yes, Vader was dangerous. 

Yes, he was feared by all of the galaxy. But logic said that he could not hurt Leia and get away with it. She watched, turning away slowly. Hesitated. 

_ I will not forgive him if anything happens to you,  _ she wanted to say. 

_ And I don’t want you to have to get involved in this,  _ Leia would have urged back. 

Again, she mouthed the words,  _ “Go. Please.”  _ _   
_ _ (I will live.)  _

She  _ hoped.  _ Nothing could ever be certain with Vader…

“Come with me, Your Highness,” he stated. “We have much to discuss.” 

“I’m sure,” she said, attempting to remain cool and cavalier. She looked up at him, 

narrowing her eyes. “What’s your  _ obsession  _ with me anyway, Vader?”

_ Obsession… _

“Do not delude yourself,” he said. “I am not any more  _ obsessed  _ with  _ you  _ than I would be any other potential  _ traitor  _ who shows signs of sensitivity to the Force.”

_ (And who may or may not be my daughter,  _ he thought but did not say. The sheer, spiteful arrogance of assuming that he was  _ obsessed  _ with her.)

She forced out a derisive laugh as he guided her around the corner. 

“Traitor? The  _ Force _ ? Vader, I don’t know what you’re blathering about.”

_ An obvious lie.  _

“Don’t play coy with me, Princess,” the Sith Lord cautioned. 

He grabbed her arm and held her steady as they turned around a sharp corner. Leia bristled at his touch. 

“Where are you taking me?” she asked. She could only hope that this time it did not involve her father.  _ (This concerns your family and your people.) _

“To my quarters,” he stated. To Vader, it was not a  _ home _ — truly, had he ever had one? It was not as  _ permanent  _ as the fortress on Mustafar, more of an  _ office  _ than an  _ abode _ . But it was useful. 

Leia shifted uneasily— armored guards stood in front of a metal door, seemingly glancing at her behind their helmets with a sort of passive interest. 

“Senator Organa?” one of them muttered. 

“Silence,” Vader said, and waved them aside. The doors slid open, and he pushed her into the room. Black matte metal walls. As cold and  _ inhuman  _ as Vader himself. She looked around, trying to understand this new environment. With a click, the doors slammed shut. She was  _ trapped.  _

Okay. She took a deep breath. She was going to say calm. Or at least as calm as she could— there was no use in panicking. 

It was unsurprising that the room was filled with so much medical equipment, given Vader’s current… condition. There was no bed (she couldn’t imagine Vader sleeping in a bed) but there was a sort of pod positioned near the center of the room. Other than that, the only thing in the way of “furniture” was a cold, metal bench on the side of the wall. She took the liberty of sitting upon it. 

“What do you want to discuss, Vader?” she asked. As he neared her, once again— now fully towering over her— she found herself just slightly intimidated. She shook it off. 

“Your blood sample,” he said. 

For a few moments, she looked at him blankly. Winter’s decoy sample should have deceived him, yet he had still pursued her. He had still not bought it. 

What would happen now? He would find the truth, no doubt. 

A peculiar device drifted forward, a needle on its tip. Leia suddenly became painfully aware of the writing Bel Iblis had inscribed on her palm. She could not let Vader see it; that would lead to too many deeper questions. Foolishly, she clenched that fist shut, and extended her other one. 

As she felt the needlepoint pinch into her arm, she stared Vader in the face. 

And realized that nothing would be straightforward from that day on. 


	11. Chapter 11

_ A young boy with hair the color of the desert sand, the same gold as the twin suns of the planet he’d grown up on, was looking up at the starry sky. He turned his round, youthful face in the direction of the bearded man next to him.  _

_ This man held a device in his hand, similar to Vader’s, and he pointed it to the child, just as the Sith did to Leia now. The machine was not quite as  _ refined  _ as Vader’s however, and the boy was much less  _ aware  _ of his situation than the Princess.  _

_ He was so oblivious, filled with  _ longing _ and  _ hope  _ for the future. If he only knew… _

_ “There’s so many!” the child rambled on, looking up at the stars, thinking of the countless worlds orbiting them. “I wanna be the first one to see ‘em all.”  _

_ He’d thought becoming a Jedi would bring him freedom… instead, it had only brought him chains of a different nature.Some things had never left him, even after he had become Vader. (His mother, for instance, left to die, bleeding out in the Tusken Raiders’ camp…) _

The blood sample was complete in a minute. All throughout the process, Leia did not flinch. This was not an ideal situation, to be sure. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d become  _ painfully  _ aware that there was something important about her blood. This explained it… her mother and father’s near-paranoia about her receiving medical treatment from outside the royal staff. And the fake that had been given to Vader originally, from Winter. She knew now that she was Force-sensitive. But could there be something  _ more _ ?

She briefly loosened her clenched fist, hoping that the writing upon it escaped Vader’s notice. 

It did— for the moment. Currently, he was focused on other things. 

He knew there was no doubt that if the test proved correct, her life would never return to normal. (For had  _ his _ ever, once the test had come?)

And yet, if it was correct, then everything could finally be made  _ right.  _

He held the tube of blood within his gloved hand as if it were his most prized possession. 

“Find some manner of amusing yourself while I am occupied,” he commanded. 

Her lips parted to speak, but he prevented her, “This does  _ not  _ include leaving.” 

She wanted to point out that there was not much else to do inside this enclosed area, but by that time, he had whirled around and moved on. 

She looked at her surroundings. Again, nothing much. Then she wondered… 

Vader took the sample, observing it for a moment, then placed it beneath the scanning lense of yet another piece of medical equipment. So often was it used to measure the quality of his own blood, that this would not be difficult. 

Then, after running the proper tests…

Midichlorian Count: 15,000  _ (She was strong, so strong.) _

DNA Sample: Match. 

So it was true then. 

Within him, the rage was burning. Quiet anger, stirring inside him, until it filled to the brim. Palpatine. He had put his trust in the man, and everything had been a lie. 

And Bail Organa had taken his daughter. He clenched his fist. Rest assured, he would pay. Anyone who had kept her from him would pay. 

He envisioned his blade, blood red, thrust through the former Senator’s chest. Alderaan burning, paying the price for taking his daughter from him. A grim smile formed beneath his mask. 

It occurred to him that the task fell to him to break the news to her. For a moment, he pondered what to say. 

She sat there, curled on the bench, and now, with renewed vision, he saw her as he had seen her the first time— her eyes that shone with the same quality as his Padmé’s had, the tilt of her chin mimicking her own in days gone by. 

_ Before he had been burned alive and confined to this accursed suit.  _

She straightened as he came near to her once more, the fabric of her dark evening gown rustling with her movement. 

Then he spoke to her: “We have discussed the nature of your parentage before, correct? That you are adopted?” 

“Yes, I am,” she said. “And what relevance does that have to  _ anything _ right now?”

“You will soon find out,” he stated. “Have either of your  _ parents _ —” even through the heavily modulated sound of his vocoder, the disgust with those words was clear— “told you of the ones who birthed you?” 

Confusion washed over Leia. She didn’t know what to make of these questions.  _ Memories of all the answers she’d longed for, from the time when she was a little girl until now. The vague substitutes that they had given her, which she’d pieced together into an outline of who her birth parents might have been _ . 

Instead of responding, she remained silent. 

“Were you ever  _ curious _ ?” he prodded. “Did you ever wish to know?” 

She saw where this was going— he was leading her into some cruel trap of deception and trickery, goading her into it by promising information he didn’t truly have. 

_ No, I wasn’t,  _ she wanted to say.  _ Mother and Father were enough—  _ are  _ enough. _

But that was a lie. She loved her parents, they were everything to her, and yet she yearned to understand where she had come from first. Didn’t  _ every  _ adopted child want that? Wasn’t it natural, her struggle, the burning curiosity, the secrets? Wanting to know the reason why she was constantly visited in her dreams by a strange woman with sad eyes? 

She was taken out of her musings by Vader’s next words, which hit her like a blaster bolt. 

“Your Highness,” he stated. “ _ I  _ am your father.” 

She stared at him for several moments, stunned into silence. 

Then let out a laugh— harsh, disbelieving. 

“You expect me to believe that?” she demanded. 

He simply returned, “Your blood has proven it to be so.” 

“No,” she said. “You’re lying.” 

“Do you wish that I show you?” 

“There are many ways to fake such tests… surely.” Then why had he been so intent upon receiving the  _ right sample _ ? Her heart wavered with doubt.

Within moments, she saw the test thrust before her very eyes. 

She read the words: Match.  _ Match.  _ **_Match._ **

“Search your feelings. You know it to be true.” 

Her head was spinning. 

“No,” she whispered again, growing desperate. “How is that possible? My parents told me—”

“Your  _ parents,”  _ Vader interrupted, “are liars. They stole you from the cradle, robbed you of your true destiny. Which lies with  _ me.” _

Leia tried to ground herself, to concentrate on the Force, as Ahsoka had taught her. She sensed no intent to deceive coming from Vader’s presence. He believed every word of what he was saying.

Was he  _ delusional?  _

_ No,  _ she told herself.  _ At least not entirely. He has evidence to support his ridiculous claims. Which meant…  _

Her parents  _ had  _ lied to her. For her entire life, no less. 

Of course, there was no way that Vader would have been fit to raise a child. She was certain that they had good intent in having “stolen” her, as he put it. In fact, they loved her. But what of the mother? Was there some poor woman, forsaken and alone, whose daughter had been lost to the royal house of Alderaan? 

Then again, she thought, no decent person could have fallen for Vader…

Why? What was the use in keeping the truth from her? Did they think her incapable of handling it? 

She had always believed Bail and Breha Organa to be the most trustworthy people she knew. And now it looked like there was so much more to them than she had thought. 

Rebellion and trickery and subterfuge— and a web of lies, in which she’d been caught since infancy. 

What must she do with all this information? 

Vader stood above her, taunting her, it seemed— a smile hidden beneath his mask. 

“You perceive the truth,” he said. “Very good.” 

She looked at him, inhaled, and spoke; a speech not so polished as those she delivered within the Senate, but— she hoped— an effective one. 

“Perhaps you are my biological father. So what? My destiny does not lie with you, Vader— it is not yours to command. I will have nothing to do with a regime that enslaves the galaxy—” 

“Enslaves?” Vader purred, his voice barely a whisper. He considered for a moment. His childhood, where he and his mother, his friends, his companions, had been treated like so much as domesticated banthas. Disposable. At five years old, he’d witnessed the first of many deaths— a woman executed, blown to smithereens, for having tried to escape her “master”. He’d sworn that one day, he’d make every slaveowner pay, and he would liberate the galaxy. 

_ You have become the very thing you swore to destroy.  _

_ No.  _

“If you are attempting to characterize me as a pitiless slaver, Your Highness, you know me even less than I had thought.” 

“And I’m  _ not  _ the naive little Princess you think I am, Vader. I know what your Empire has done to so many worlds simply because their populations are nonhuman, and therefore deemed ‘disposable.’ Take Kashyyyk— the Wookiees are being forced out of their homes, into brutal working conditions without consent and without pay. Dress it up any way you like— label them ‘sentient resources’. It’s still, by definition, slavery.” 

A pause. 

“You have researched well,” he stated simply.

She was fuming. 

“That’s  _ all  _ you have to say? Are you really so cold, so heartless as to see, say, Governor Tarkin, parading around his slaves like it’s nothing and still, despite having endless power and resources to change it, not taking action?” 

She could still remember the time she’d seen the Governor at some diplomatic function, a Mon Calamari kneeling at his side and a Twi’lek woman standing there with a collar around her neck. She’d felt  _ sick,  _ and it had been an image she’d never forgotten, contributing further to her already burning hatred of the Empire. And yet...

“I am not Tarkin,” Vader said. “You are mistaken in assuming that I condone such practices.” 

“So you admit that your precious Empire is wrong,” she snarled. “And yet you  _ still  _ do not lift a finger to change anything.” 

“So you admit that you are not as loyal as you would have us believe,” he returned. 

She turned serious. 

“Is it truly disloyalty to ask that the system be improved when flaws are found within it?” she asked. “Isn’t using your power to improve the lives of others what governing is supposed to be?” 

_ Ah, so this was his chance.  _

“That is where you fit the equation, daughter mine,” he said. “Join me, and you will have more power than you have ever had, as Princess or Senator, to enact the reforms you wish to see.” 

She looked at him, as if considering, so many questions coming into her head. 

For instance:  _ When did you first suspect I was your daughter? That was why you needed the blood sample, right?  _

_ Why?  _

She thought, yet again, of her dream mother… If she was real, then she must have been  _ involved  _ with Vader in some way. Who in their right mind would start a relationship with a Sith Lord? 

At any rate, that would explain the tragic look in her eyes… when everything had gone wrong, when she’d realized her lover was not the man she had thought him to be. Or  _ had _ they been lovers? Maybe she was forced into the relationship.

Leia shuddered.  _ That  _ was a dark thought. 

But then again, Vader was a dark person. 

And he was  _ her father.  _ Offering her a place by his side…

One which she was uncertain if she would be permitted to refuse. She eyed him warily, all the royal training in her life being what allowed her to maintain her composure. (Training from a family that did not trust her enough to reveal the horrible secret of her existence.) 

Of course it was a ridiculous offer. The Empire— though she could not explicitly reveal her opinion to Vader— was structurally irredeemable. So how did she say no to this? 

With just enough  _ bite _ to make him back away. Just enough to show him that, despite what her bloodline claimed,  _ she was not his.  _

She simply spoke what was on her mind. 

“You seriously think that I will drop everything— all my duties and obligations— to join you?” 

“Yes,” he said. “The dark side can do much to assist you, young one.” 

She scarcely refrained from rolling her eyes.

“Right. Because it’s done so much for you.” 

__________________________________

A princess-senator missing in action. 

It would be quite a difficult case, if it became a problem… Ahsoka knew she had no time to waste. 

Well, as she’d learned, Alderaan was apparently blocked off by the Empire— effectively besieged. The strangest part was that, as far as she was aware, no one on Coruscant knew. Leave it to the Imperial media to hide everything of importance in the galaxy. 

From a propaganda standpoint, she supposed it made sense— a Core World coming under attack, even with the skepticism it’d been viewed with from Imperial society of late, might cause mass panic. 

Anyway, the point— Queen Breha and Bail Organa were in a compromising position currently, and even if they knew where their daughter was, the likelihood of their ability to do anything about it was slim. 

She needed answers. 

From a certain perspective (though the Jedi Order was long dead, and her rank within discarded even before), Leia was her apprentice, and she, the Master. No Master worth their salt would ever abandon their Padawan. Hadn’t Anakin come for  _ her _ so many times, when she found herself in danger during the Clone Wars? 

Anakin… yes, somehow  _ he  _ was at the root of all this. And she was going to figure out  _ how.  _

And in the meantime, she  _ urgently  _ needed to locate the missing Leia. She reached out with the Force…

But how much good would that do? She had never heard of anyone having the ability to pinpoint a single person’s location with this power. 

_ (At least, she knew that the Princess was still alive. At least she had not felt her Force presence wink out of existence. She had far too much experience with that awful sensation. During the Jedi Purge, when, one by one, she’d felt the lives of her former companions burn out. She’d felt nauseous, overwhelmed by all the bloodshed.) _

But that wasn’t happening here. So she could breathe easier. She could formulate a plan. 

She had a feeling, after all, that she’d see the Princess again. 

She inhaled, reaching out once more. 

_ Leia, hear me… _

She felt something brush against her within the Force, a small flicker of recognition. Then, it disappeared. 

_ Leia!  _ she called out again, into the limitless void of the Force. 

Another flicker, but no response.

__________________________________

_ I fear your daughter is in danger.  _

A headache had worked its way through Bail Organa’s brain. Breha wrapped her arms around him as he settled onto the divan, taking in Ahsoka’s message. 

What had happened to their daughter? What could they do?

They were trapped, here on their planet, by the Empire, and it seemed there was nothing that could be done to save her. 

“We’ll find a way, Bail,” Breha was saying. “We  _ will  _ get out of this.” 

They’d done so much to try to keep her safe. _ If something had happened… _

Bail rose to his feet. 

“We have to respond to the message. We need more information.” 

He stood and made his way to the commlink system, desperate now more than ever at the remembrance of the message… fingers flying across the keyboard, inputting all the necessary codes. 

“Fulcrum, can you hear me?” 

The hologram flickered to life, and they saw Ahsoka on the other end, staring back at them with widened eyes. 

“How did you manage to contact me?” she asked. “I heard of the blockade on your world—”  
Bail cut her off. 

“What happened to Leia?” he demanded. “You said she was in danger. What happened?”  
She swallowed. 

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I just know that she attended the Imperial gala this evening and afterward… she disappeared. I tried to contact her with the Force— unsuccessfully.”

“ _ The Force _ ,” Breha repeated breathlessly. “You’ve been training her?”

Ahsoka turned grim. 

“Yes,” Ahsoka said. “She is strong, Your Highness. That power must be contained

somehow. And Bail told me I had to get to her… before Vader did.”

That was what broke down the calm facade.

“Vader…  _ he’s the one who has her?”  _ Breha choked back a sob. “ _ Ahs _ — Fulcrum, you have to get her back. Please, save our daughter. You might be her only hope.” 

Bail raised his hands. 

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” he said. “That might not be the case. Leia could be completely safe. We just don’t know where she is.” 

But deep down, Bail was shaken to the core, and both women knew it. His breaths were growing more rapid, as each horrible thought played out through his mind. 

_ I should have told her,  _ he thought.  _ I should have told Leia the truth.  _

Throughout the years, watching as their daughter grew older, that had always been the question— when would they let her know? She was a girl of many accomplishments, and they were more proud of her than words could say. She could be  _ happy,  _ going through life with only the knowledge of the official story. Yet at some point, their daughter needed to find out where she had really come from. She  _ deserved  _ it. That had always been their consensus. They just didn’t know when it was safe. 

Because, really, this  _ was  _ a dangerous galaxy they lived in. When was an appropriate time to inform the Princess of Alderaan that she was the daughter of the Emperor’s most feared enforcer? Once, they had imagined, it would be at the  _ end  _ of this conflict. When the Rebellion succeeded, and made a new future for them all. Then they would get through this  _ together _ . 

But now, they knew that Leia could not be kept safe so easily. And that they had made a mistake. 

_ I am sorry, my daughter,  _ Bail thought.  _ For failing you.  _

He crumpled beneath the weight of his guilt, as Ahsoka’s hologram began to flicker out. 

“I will do what I can,” she said. “I promise.”


	12. Chapter 12

_ “The dark side can do much to assist you, young one.”  _

_ “Right. Because it’s done so much for you.”  _

Vader looked down at the Princess— his daughter— with frustration. Who was she to tell him the quality of his life’s choices? Nothing. Only a foolish child. 

From somewhere within the room, a tone sounded, and one of the outer guards stepped in. 

“My lord, the Emperor has summoned you.” 

“Enough. Inform him that I shall arrive shortly.” 

Vader observed a slight wave of curiosity emanating from the guard at the sight of Leia by his side, but the man quickly scurried off. 

Leia couldn’t help but let a smirk dance across her lips. Vader was leaving— perhaps this was her chance to escape. 

Her ambitions, however, were swiftly crushed as the Sith Lord— not her father, he would never be her father— turned to face her. 

“ _ You _ ,” he said, “are not permitted to leave while I am away.” 

“And why is that?” she asked. “I am— if your ‘test’ is in fact, correct, your daughter. Not your prisoner.” 

“So it would seem,” Vader agreed. “But it has still not yet been ascertained whether or not you are a traitor, my daughter. Until we prove otherwise. I cannot have you wandering about at will.” 

_ That  _ would only allow her to return to the Alderaanian dregs who had housed her for so many years. And until she had been… broken in, he could not have anything of the sort. 

She was  _ burning  _ red, clearly angered at this statement. 

“This is ridiculous! You seem to forget, Lord Vader, that I am a member of the Imperial Senate, chosen to represent the people of Alderaan. I have a life to return to; you cannot just keep me here.” 

Her point was not entirely without merit, Vader conceded, but he would work the details out later. 

_ He reached out his hand… _

Leia raised an eyebrow. 

“What are you _doing_?” she asked. “Trying to _restrain_ me?  
She squirmed away, disconcerted by the thought. She didn’t want to give Vader any ideas. 

“In a way, yes,” he murmured, and he pressed his fingers to her temple. 

“Hey! Cut it out!” 

“ _ Sleep, _ ” he commanded, and a sense of drowsiness swept over Leia. No doubt this was some sort of Force trick, and she felt  _ ashamed  _ at being weak enough to apparently fall under its spell. 

She pushed back, mustering all the strength that she had to keep him away from her. For a moment, she was successful, managing to keep the dark tendrils of unconsciousness at bay. 

Then, Vader sent a gust of energy back in her direction, attacking from an angle she was unfamiliar with. 

Her eyelids grew heavy as she slumped back onto the bench, drifting off into a state of sleep. With that taken care of, Vader was able to turn away. She would not awaken anytime soon, he knew. Not until he returned. 

__________________________________

_ Leia, hear me… _

She had felt the call— ever-so-slightly brushing against her mind before, when she was awake. During her conversation with Vader, the presence of Ahsoka had been sensed somewhere in the back of her mind. She’d needed to ignore it then and focus on the task of resisting her Sith Lord “father”. 

But now, lying there, unconscious, her shields broken down, she felt the call of the Togruta woman most fervently. Perhaps she would bring help. 

_ I’m here,  _ Leia answered, hoping that Aunt ‘Soka really was calling to her, that this wasn’t just some vision brought to her by the Force. 

_ Leia! Where are you? _

Stretching out from beyond the void, she could see Ahsoka’s face, and the dim outline of her surroundings. 

_ I was speaking to your parents,  _ she said.  _ They fear for your life.  _

Something bitter blossomed within Leia, and it startled Ahsoka. She could feel the girl’s pain and desperation, roaring across space. And yet, the mention of her parents opened into something worse, like ripping a bandage from a fresh wound. 

_Leia… what’s wrong?_ _  
_ _Why didn’t they tell me?_ she sent back involuntarily. _Why didn’t_ you _tell me?_

From Ahsoka’s side, there was only confusion. She  _ knew _ that Bail and Breha were regretting something when they’d had their holocall. But what— other than their daughter’s apparent lack of safety— could it be?

_ Ahsoka, please,  _ Leia thought. She felt the Force assaulting her from every side— and suddenly she was suffocating. Vader, her beloved Aunt ‘Soka…

_Please, leave me alone!_ _  
_ An unconscious cry, she knew that it wasn’t smart. She knew she needed help, and yet, it was so overwhelming… 

Ahsoka reeled away from the shock of that blow, the cries of a girl so frightened and alone. She must have gone through something highly distressing— how else could a girl with such typically high levels of composure show herself like this?

She could feel the darkness wrapping itself around Leia… reeking of familiarity and despair and…

_ Wait… _

Ahsoka inhaled, trying not to pass out from the impact of the emotions she was feeling.  _ Anakin… _ Why was he entwined in all this?

_ Leia, let me ask you… where are you?  _

And in response, she only received this: 

_ Vader. _

No. It was true. Their worst fears had been realized. 

The Princess was in Vader’s hands. And something more was troubling Leia too. 

_ Hold on, Princess. I’m coming for you.  _

She could only hope that what she said was true, and that she’d be able to dispel the origins of the darkness before it was too late. 

__________________________________

Only as Vader knelt there in the presence of the Emperor did he realize how  _ powerless  _ he truly was to protect his daughter. Now that he had her, he had thought, naively, that she was safe. That he could keep her from harm, undo the damage that the rebel scum and Jedi sympathizers had wrought upon her in the sixteen years of life that she had spent with them. 

For sixteen years, he had been kept away from her. And now, he had believed their reunion would serve as a sort of poetic justice… repaying him for the years of endless torment that he had endured without his lover. Perhaps the universe had forgiven him for what he’d done to her. 

But he still wasn’t powerful enough to fix things… although Palpatine had been proven a liar, he still had Vader there, kneeling at his feet. And there was nothing to be done about it… he knew how much stronger the Emperor was, and he had suffered the damage to prove it. 

_ Flashes of lightning, spidery fingers of electricity reaching out, paralyzing him… _

The amount of times a repair droid had needed to make upgrades to his armor after a session of retribution for his failures… he could no longer count it. His master was cruel, that was most certain. 

It was quick, and with certainty then, that he knew he could not give his daughter over to the Emperor. All this, stirring beneath the surface as he knelt there. 

“Rise, Lord Vader,” Palpatine said, and Vader stood, careful to keep his thoughts from flowing to the surface. 

He knew that the Emperor could lay bare his deepest, hidden inner thoughts if he only wished. He had done it before. No doubt he would not hesitate to do it again. It was only when Vader stood, however, that he noticed someone by the Emperor’s side. 

_ Tarkin. _

Vader clenched his fist, longing for nothing so much as to wrap it around the Governor’s throat, and watch as he struggled and gasped for air. 

He did not  _ care  _ for the man. 

“Now that Lord Vader has joined us,” the Emperor said, “we can begin our little discussion.” 

Tarkin smiled. 

“Of course, my Lord.” 

_ There was no need for Tarkin to insert his two-sense into this,  _ Vader thought with a growl of displeasure. 

“I have no doubt that you two gentlemen recall a certain  _ project  _ our Empire is constructing on the Outer Rim,” he smiled. “The battle station, code-named Death Star.” 

_ Ah, yes.  _ Once completed, the intention was to equip the monstrosity with firepower unheard of, enough to destroy entire planets and crush any who opposed Palpatine’s will. The threat alone, of letting a world vanish from existence, would provide proper motivation for all rebels to surrender. Vader had his  _ reservations  _ about the project now— especially considering that Palpatine was  _ not  _ the man he had thought him to be. 

_ (How long had his Padmé survived, after Palpatine falsely claimed she died. What if— for a moment he hoped against hope— she still lived on?  _ No.  _ That was impossible. He recalled the early days, when he was growing accustomed to the suit, reaching out for her presence, hoping desperately for some sense of comfort, only to find, where there was once that familiar sense of warmth, that nothing was there.  _

_ She must have succumbed just after giving birth to Leia…  _ Lei-yah.  _ A part of him was gratified, even joyful, to know that she had agreed to the name that he’d suggested for a baby girl so long ago.)  _

And then she’d been given over to the Alderaanians. Made a Princess, who lived in the lap of luxury, though by birthright, she could have been so much more. 

It was not just the Organas who had kept his daughter from him, but Palpatine as well. 

_ And he’d vowed to make everyone who’d kept her from him pay.  _

The old man croaked, and then continued on with his little speech. 

“Progress on the construction of this station is continuing at an excellent rate. Henceforth, as Emperor, I have realized the need to appoint someone to supervise the project— along with the scientists and Director leading it. That nomination shall go to Grand Moff and Governor of the Outer Rim, Wilhuff Tarkin.” 

It did not escape Vader’s notice that Palpatine’s eyes were fixated on  _ him, _ not Tarkin, as he spoke these words. He meant this as a  _ slight  _ toward his apprentice. As punishment for all his failures in tracking down the rebels. And possibly for thoughts of dissension, if he had sensed them. 

And Vader knew it was only a matter of time until he did. (In other words, he had to hide the existence of his daughter. But how?) 

Tarkin, unaware of any of this taking place, stepped forward, looking unbearably smug. 

“I am honoured to take this position, my Lord,” he stated. He gave a slight, deferential bow. But  _ he  _ did not have to kneel before Palpatine.  _ He  _ was not in a position of eternal servitude to the man, not in the same way that Vader was. 

And the Sith  _ despised  _ him for it. 

Palpatine gazed at his apprentice, as a predator might look upon its prey, counting all his various failures, no doubt, within his mind. 

_ The escape of Amidala’s former handmaiden, a rebel spy, from Imperial custody.  _

_ Negligence of duty— arriving late to countless briefings in favor of more  _ personal  _ matters.  _

_ A twisted, near perverse fixation upon the young senator of Alderaan. He had no shame, really. Anyone who even slightly resembled the image of his late wife, he seemed to fall for. Even a mere slip of a girl— all, presumably, because of a slight physical resemblance to the dead Queen, her similar position in life as royalty and senator. Perhaps this could be… exploited, someday. _

_ Palpatine looked at Vader— a snake about to strike— the same look that he had when about to attack, electrocuting his victims, his  _ subjects, _ with the sheer, raw, unlimited power of the dark side.  _

Imperceptibly, Vader flinched back, as if bracing himself for impact. 

_No, not today._ _  
_ _Today, Palpatine would spare him. Let him relish in his foolishness, before he took the ultimate fall._

“Rise, Lord Vader,” he said. “You are dismissed.” 

Scarcely acknowledging one another, Vader and the Governor shuffled out from the audience chamber. 

Palpatine had meant for Tarkin’s promotion to  _ wound  _ Vader— in reality, it barely registered. His mind was already preoccupied, vibrating with all the possibilities, reeling from the thought of losing his daughter— losing a loved one— yet again. 

Unfortunately, he scarcely knew her. The Organa household was to blame for that. 

He had to find a way to have her. Fortunately, there were many ways to go about it. 

The first thought that sprang to mind was faking her death.  _ That  _ would dispel any questions with regards to her fate, from the outside world who so clearly  _ adored _ her _ … _ a princess and senator, daughter of Alderaan’s royal house… 

But it would leave so many loose ends yet untied. Bail Organa— right now he longed for nothing so much as to watch the man  _ die _ —and yet beforehand, he must confront him. Put him face to face with the truth and show him that Vader had taken back what was his. 

Yes. That would be  _ most  _ satisfactory. 

He thought back to what Tarkin had said earlier, before the gala:  _ “I want her taken into custody.” _ He almost smiled, to think that he had gotten his daughter first. She certainly had a way of making enemies. 

So… what was to be done? 

He had begun to formulate a plan when he once again reached his quarters, where her unconscious form lay still undisturbed. He reached out, caressing her face briefly before she suddenly snapped awake. The shock of his presence so close to her own, no doubt, had been the cause. 

“Good morning, my daughter,” he intoned. 

“Would you  _ please  _ stop calling me that?” she demanded, “Lord Vader.”

“Why?” he asked. “It is the truth.” 

“I. don’t. care,” she stated. “I want out of here! _ Real _ fathers don’t hold their children hostage, away from the world in some blasted apartment building!”

“Yes,” said Vader. “You wish to go home? Allow me to enlighten you, Princess… Right now, the Imperial Navy has placed the Alderaan system under an impenetrable blockade. No one can get out. No one may enter. That is where your so-called ‘parents’ find themselves right now.”

Leia’s eyes widened. 

“The HoloNet hasn’t mentioned any of this!” she protested, but slowly, she came to realize. 

_ This concerns your family and your people,  _ Garm Bel Iblis had said. It made sense now.  _ That  _ must have been a part of what he was trying to tell her. On her palm, though the ink was fading, the numbers  _ 5125  _ were still inscribed. Involuntarily, she uncurled her hand just slightly.

Vader moved closer, noticing that something was scratched onto the Princess’ hand. To her horror, he grasped her wrist, reading the numbers that were written there. 

_ 5125. _

Most curious. 

“What is the meaning of these  _ numerals _ , Your Highness?” 

She flinched away, struggling momentarily to think of some excuse. 

“It’s nothing of concern, Lord Vader,” she said. “There was… a  _ boy _ , who gave me the code to his commlink.”

A suspicious, almost  _ fatherly  _ grunt emanating from Vader’s mask at the mention of a boy.

“I wasn’t interested in him, of course, but I didn’t want to be impolite,” she added.

“Hmm,” Vader murmured. He did not doubt the  _ plausibility  _ of the tale. Leia had encountered many people that night— of her popularity and even infamy there was no doubt. She was quite beautiful— after all, it was the blood of Amidala that flowed through her veins as well as his own. 

Something about the story, however, failed to add up. 

No matter. Vader had plans that must be put into motion.

“Get up, Your Highness,” he said. “You must return to your apartment and pack your belongings. We are leaving Coruscant.” 

“What?” 

Leia, understandably put off by this proclamation, stood, crossed her arms, and remained rooted to the floor. 

“If you think that I’m about to go  _ anywhere  _ with you, Vader, you are gravely mistaken—” 

“You have little choice in the matter, Princess,” he said. “I am your father. And after all, it is only to protect you.” 

She furrowed her brow, genuinely confused. 

“Protect me? What do you mean?” 

She was certainly in more immediate danger from Vader, she thought, than from anything else. 

“If the Emperor became aware of your existence as my daughter and as a Force-sensitive,” he said, “you would find yourself in considerably more danger than you are in right now.” 

_ Palpatine.  _ Leia had scarcely begun to consider the implications of what would happen if  _ h _ e became involved in this tale. But wait… why was Vader hiding her from  _ the Emperor?  _

“You mean… I’d be in danger if your  _ Master _ found out?” she smirked. “The one you have sworn to obey without question?” 

She couldn’t help but say it. While she was being kept as his “daughter,” he’d never physically harm her, right? This would be fun, then. Leia’s top priority, of course, was escape, but while she was at it, she might as well try to poke some holes in Vader’s twisted worldview.

“Silence,” Vader commanded. “You’ve gone too far,  _ Princess _ .” 

He stretched his hand out and she felt her own going to her throat.

_ What…?  _

In spite of her own inhibitions to stop it, the hand grasped at her neck,  _ choking  _ her, stopping her airflow. The rumors were true then. He really  _ could  _ kill without so much as a touch. 

Was she going to die right here? 

_“I love you!”_ _  
_ _“LIAR!”_

Leia’s eyes filled with rage and fear and confusion, starting to water as the hand tightened, just as his beloved wife’s eyes had filled with tears so long ago, and it was then Vader realized that he was no stronger than he was then. He had made the same mistake— becoming  _ attached  _ to another being, only to hurt her in the end

He released her, and she fell to her knees, gasping for air.

_ “Monster,”  _ she hissed. “You’re no father of mine.” 

She was right on one account— he was a monster. He had touched his own child, and he had hurt her. 

He longed to protect her from the galaxy, and yet he could not even protect her from himself. His visceral reaction to her  _ insolence _ — though it needed taming— could have killed her. 

“You are not harmed, child,” he said. “Now stand.” 


	13. Chapter 13

_ “It’s Vader. Vader has her.” _

Ahsoka’s voice was frantic, near breathless, as she delivered this news… speaking swiftly through the commlink, voice distorted. She could scarcely bear to see the looks on Bail’s and Breha’s faces, blurred, though they were, by the poor signal of the holographic image. Their utter distress… it was so painful. 

“I’m… sorry, Your Majesties,” she said, because she knew, when it all came down to it, that it was her fault. She had failed— again. She’d failed to protect a child of the Force, the girl whom she was training… and now that girl was in the hands of the Emperor’s most infamous enforcer. 

The usual composure of royalty— completely dissolved, as a cry broke from the Queen’s lips.

“How? How did you  _ find  _ her?  _ Where is she? _ ”

They couldn’t see it, but behind the oversized cloak, Ahsoka pressed her mouth closed and frowned. 

“I don’t know,” she stated simply.  
“Then how—”   
“The Force! I know it sounds outrageous, but hear me out. I reached out to her— she told me she was with him.” 

Breha paused. The thought of her daughter harnessing this mysterious power she’d been kept from her whole life was still so strange. But that wasn’t what mattered— what mattered was… 

“He has her. Please… Fulcrum, find her.” 

Her breaths grew shallow at the thought of her child in the hands of the enemy… the hands of her birth father… she leaned toward her husband, hoping for support. 

How was Bail so still, throughout all this? She almost thought that he was perfectly calm, but the trembling of his lower lip betrayed him. 

She knew how much he cared. She knew that he was just as afraid as she was. Yet he was  _ solid.  _ She had chosen the right man to be her Viceroy. 

She looked him in the eye, as if they were speaking merely by looking at one another. Neither possessed the abilities of the Force, but the message still sent. 

_ Should we tell her…? _

Bail took a deep breath. 

“Fulcrum,” he said, “there is something you should know.” 

“What is it?” she asked, her montrals, the tips of her lekku, perking upward.   
“We’ve been… _concerned_ about Leia’s interactions with Vader for more than one reason.” _(Concerned? Really, terrified was a more accurate description.)_ “It would seem obvious why… she’s a Force sensitive; he is a Sith Lord. But, Fulcrum— and I apologize for failing to inform you of this— there’s more to it than that.” 

( _ So much more.) _ Bail pressed his hand to his temple, hoping to prevent the headache from spreading once again through his brain. 

“Vader is Leia’s biological father.” 

Ahsoka glanced upward. This was… a _ shocking  _ development to say the least. 

“Her  _ father?”  _ Ahsoka gasped. “How? That’s ridiculous. This can’t be true...”

“It is,” Breha interrupted. “She was born to Vader. That doesn’t matter. She is  _ our _ child… and we want— no,  _ need _ — to have her back.”

_Oh stars,_ Breha thought, leaning backwards. General Skywalker, Vader’s former identity… he was Ahsoka’s _teacher_ within the Jedi Order. How were they going to explain any of this to her? Surely, she needed to know, to be eased into such knowledge, before getting involved in such a _personal_ case.  
“I understand that, Your Highness,” Ahsoka was saying. “I will do my best…”  
The question of _Vader,_ however, still burned within her mind. 

“Do you have any… information on Vader, though? Who is he? And how did he come to birth a child?” 

(She remembered seeing images, from far away, on rebel missions. He did not look like an organic being… yet somehow, his sight made her ill.

The soldiers turning, running away.   
“What _is_ this thing?”

A flashing saber of red, cutting them down, others barely escaping with their lives.) 

“He is human,” Bail said. “He was harmed in an accident, and needed replacement parts, that much I know.”  _ (How fortunate that Kenobi had informed him on the matter. A mysterious, reclusive man— yet he had been kind enough to provide them with the necessary knowledge before handing over the burden and blessing that was raising a child. At least that much could be depended upon.)  _

Anakin Skywalker, Knight of the Jedi Order. That was the man who Vader had once been… renowned for his heroics during the Clone Wars. Bail had met him before, he seemed respectable, if a bit troubled, and he could only wonder at his transformation. 

“We took Leia in, in part because we had always wanted a little girl,” he continued. “And in part because we are rather close with the mother.” 

Ahsoka blinked, trying to take it all in. 

“Fulcrum,” Breha cut in gently, “are you familiar with the late Senator Padmé Amidala?”   
“Yes,” she said. She’d known the woman quite well, actually— her warm smiles, the advice she’d always been happy to give— Ahsoka might even have considered her a friend. She wouldn’t have known her at all, however, if it weren’t for... 

_ Oh no.  _

“She was rather close with my Master, if I recall correctly,” she said. “They thought I had no idea… I did.” 

How many times had Anakin gone off to her aid in times of danger, losing all bluster, all sense of Jedi formality, like a fool madly in love? She  _ knew.  _ Of course she did. 

“Yes, she was,” Bail smiled sadly. “And she was also close with Lord Vader.” 

“What?” Ahsoka said. “Vader hadn’t appeared until… after Amidala’s death.” 

“Fulcrum,” said Bail, so calm. “Lord Vader and General Skywalker are one and the same.”  
_No._

“You can’t be serious. Anakin is dead! And... he would never—” 

“What my husband says is true,” Breha said. “I’m sorry, Ahsoka. I truly am.”   
“So what you are saying is… Anakin is Vader, and Leia is Vader’s daughter, which means...”

_ Oh no.  _

It was strange. The first thing that came to her mind was that she should have seen this coming. Perhaps not the Vader part. But the other…

There were so many parts of Leia that reminded her of him. 

_ Her face, the fire in her eyes, her irrepressible spirit…  _

_ A bright smile… _

_ “I think I’m getting the hang of it!” she said, clutching the training blaster with both hands.  _

_“That’s great! Now don’t get too cocky, Skg_ —”  
_Skyguy. That silly little nickname she’d given Anakin as a child. Without thinking, it’d almost slipped out. Something, inexplicably, had taken her back, reminding her of those days._

But now, the worst had happened. 

Her mentor, her brother— she’d thought of him as an older brother— he was her closest friend, and she was supposed to believe that he had become a monster. That was what they had said— and she had no reason to doubt the Organas— for why would they lie?

The last time she had seen Anakin was well over a decade ago, and he  _ seemed  _ normal on the surface… yet strained, trying desperately to pull the darkness and the struggles beneath a thin layer of cool, collected dignity. 

He’d never been the same, she noticed, after she’d left the Order— but then again, he wasn’t in charge of her anymore after that, so she’d seen him only by coincidence and a shared mission. 

She didn’t have a family to go back to— they’d taken that away. There wasn’t a place where she belonged anymore, not until the Rebellion. She could thank Bail for that, at least. 

But what the  _ kriff  _ was she going to do now? 

“Anakin… isn’t dead,” she said. “He got cut to pieces and remade into a  _ Sith Lord?  _ How?”

Jedi killer. That was they called Vader, as if Anakin, her Skyguy, would go about and _ kill _ his brothers and sisters in arms. The children, even. He wasn’t like the clones— there was no chip implanted in his brain, forcing him to obey orders without question. He had made those decisions of his own will. 

She almost didn’t believe it. 

“ _ How?”  _ she whispered. 

“The details aren’t clear,” said Bail. “We only thought it would be important for you to know before embarking on such a personal mission.” 

She was numb. 

_ The details aren’t clear.  _

_ Then how did they know, and she had never discovered her Master’s impossible fate? _

She clenched her fist, becoming filled with a new resolution. She would find the girl, and bring Vader to justice. She would end this. 

__________________________________

Leia rose from the floor, still gasping for breath. 

She swallowed, looking down to see a swath of tender red marks on her neck from where Vader had… choked her. Where he’d turned her own hand, her own body, against her, and made her suffocate.

_ “Monster,” _ she’d called him, and she meant every letter of the word— his evil apparently knew no bounds. Even the slimiest of Imperial toadies were known to try to curry favor in court for their young, yet Vader bore no sign of affection even for one he regarded as family. 

She was not safe here. She would never be safe with him… and she was a fool to think that she could be. 

“We will now return to your apartment,” Vader said. “There you will be permitted to collect any valuables that I deem appropriate for our journey.” 

Leia swallowed, biting back a dozen insults. She wanted to cry out— how  _ dare  _ he command her like this, as if he had any sort of power over her beyond the simple fearmongering of the Empire? How dare he pretend to be her father? But she pictured his hand, reaching out again, depriving her of her breath, and she began to have… second thoughts. She couldn’t risk too much right now. She still had to live, to escape. Back to her duties, back to the Rebellion. 

_ “This concerns your family and your people.”  _

And to do that… as much as she hated the thought… she had to try to get on Vader’s good side. 

“So,” she began, a slight, barely-noticeable tremor in her voice, “where do you plan on taking me next?” 

She smiled grimly. Because she was certain she wasn’t going with him willingly. No matter what, she promised that she was going to get away as soon as she could. 

“As I said, we are leaving Coruscant,” Vader stated. “The rest is none of your concern.” 

_ Sure, _ she wanted to snap back… but, again, was it worth it? 

She hated him. She was certain of that. She hated every wire in his despicable metal frame. She’d wanted to test the waters, see the depth of his parental affinity for her… on one hand, he’d almost killed her. But on the other, he seemed to be doing all...  _ this _ out of some twisted desire to protect her… from the Emperor, no less, whom he practically worshipped. Perhaps… she could still work with this situation. 

But she had little time to waste. She  _ had _ to get out of there. 

“Come,” he said to her. “Follow me. And do not cause any disturbances.” 

He placed his hand on her shoulder— instinctively, she flinched away. 

“Lest I repeat myself, Your Highness,” Vader said. “Do not resist.” 

“What if I do?” she asked. “You’ll… choke me again?” 

“No,” Vader said. He remained silent. Though he would not admit to it, this was something he regretted… another moment to add amongst his long list of sins. He knew that he was no more than a twisted creature now… but his own daughter…

She stood there, with all the pride of royalty, though her title of “Princess” was attained by mere deceit— her pride, so irritating. 

Yet she was his own, and he could not protect her from even himself. 

He grabbed her to his chest, and she struggled vainly against him once more. There she stood, looking up at him with a mixture of loathing and thinly veiled fear. What course would Vader take with this? 

For one moment, Vader released his grip and Leia moved forward. 

“Now, go,” he said, and with an angry glare back at him, she obliged. 

_ Let him think he had the upper hand. She would show him.  _

For the first time in what felt like forever, she stepped out of Vader’s quarters. She’d lost track of time, passed out on the bench. She managed a cursory glance out a nearby viewport— it was pitch dark. The dead of night, then. That made sense, the gala had been late.

He ushered her into a lift, the door hissing shut behind them with a cold finality. Vader seemed so confident that she would lead him to the proper location. Fortunately for him, her plan didn’t diverge with his until a bit later. 

As they descended what must have been several stories, Leia felt her heart pounding in her chest. All was silent again, save for that unsettling noise of Vader’s respirator. 

She was growing weary, being in the presence of her one enemy— her father— for so long. Her throat still ached from the chokehold he’d placed her under not so long ago. She shuddered to think how easily he could do it, how no doubt he had committed this against against countless others who provoked him in such similarly small manners. How perhaps he’d  _ killed  _ for far less. 

How could one person become filled with such hatred? 

“I do not hate you, my daughter,” he stated, as if he knew what she was thinking. 

She turned to him, startled.  _ Her shields! _

“Do not fear,” he said. “Your  _ shields _ are still well intact. We are merely… bonded now, you and I.” 

She flinched away.  _ Bonded?  _ What did that mean? He was… a  _ part  _ of her now? 

“It simply means that we may communicate via the aid of the Force.”

That was hardly an improvement, Leia thought. What was to say that he wouldn’t have access to certain undesirable memories, things that were none of his business?  _ Secrets  _ of the Organa family, and of the Rebellion, that a servant of the Emperor would hardly be privy to? Was all her training with Ahsoka pointless? 

“Get out of my head,” she snarled. “I don’t want anything to do with you!” 

“And why not?” asked Vader. “I am your father. You are my daughter. Each of us possesses an exceptional talent for use of the Force. It is only natural then, that such a bond should come to exist once we are in close proximity.” 

She said nothing. Turned away. She didn’t want this… 

“I can sense your fear,” he said. “Your anger…” 

“ _ Stop.” _

She took a deep breath, centered herself. She could feel his dark presence, closing in on her. And shoved him away. 

_ “So strong…”  _ Vader murmured. But she hadn’t dispelled him fully. He was still lurking there, on the edges of her mind. How would she keep him at bay? 

The doors opened, revealing a familiar corridor… the one that would lead them to her apartment.

“Come, Lord Vader,” she said. “Conduct me to my quarters.” 

She stepped outside, the Sith Lord just behind her. She recalled the first time that he had come to her office, when it still belonged to her father— this would be far more unsettling if he hadn’t come there before. She wished that Vader didn’t know where her apartment was…

The corridor was empty, not a person in sight. All was silent. How fortunate that it was apparently well past midnight on this side of Coruscant— a well-known young senator and the Dark Lord of the Sith side by side would most certainly raise some questions to anyone who saw. 

Finally, they made it. The doors swung open… everything was in order— Winter had taken care of that, no doubt. (Even when everything else in life was so disordered.)

_ Oh, that was right. _ She had to decide what “valuables” to take along for their journey. Then— form an escape plan. As Vader followed her through the door, she spotted something of great importance. 

A pair of two droids, sitting in the darkened corner… Artoo and Threepio. The latter doubled over as if he was resting, his power turned off for the night. Instantly, the two snapped awake, lights blinking on, at the recognition of footsteps entering the room.

“Oh! Welcome back, Mistress Leia.”   
He flinched from left to right, no doubt processing his surroundings. It took him a moment to register the shadow behind her. 

C-3PO was not the most… emotionally stable droid, that was for certain. He looked upward, and fear seemed to overtake his circuits.

“Ah! Oh my! Who is this? Artoo, we’re doomed!”

Meanwhile, Vader looked down and remembered. That little boy on the desert planet, putting metal and wire together, constructing a machine with which to aid his mother. So much of his past was resurfacing. He despised this. 

How much had Bail Organa taken from him? 

“Have these droids fitted with a restraining bolt, Your Highness,” he ordered. “They may be of some use.” 


End file.
